


The One With the Blue Door on Rue de Villette

by No_Thoughts_Just_Thots



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Notting Hill (1999)
Genre: Bookstore AU, Celebrity AU, Enjolras is Julia Roberts, First Date, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Grantaire is Hugh Grant, I can and will write a fix-it fic for a movie no one cares about, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Modern AU, Pining, Slow Burn, gratuitous use of the word fuck, small amount of Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/No_Thoughts_Just_Thots/pseuds/No_Thoughts_Just_Thots
Summary: Enjolras hummed something under his breath as he tapped through his phone while Grantaire put his book in a paper bag, stapling the receipt to the outside. He smoothed the crumpled edges as best he could, then slid it back across the counter. Enjolras grabbed for it, still texting, and for a moment their hands brushed, his long, elegant fingers running against Grantaire’s in a way that made him catch his breath.“Thanks for your business!” he forced out, pulling back like he’d been burned to prevent himself doing anything stupid.“Thankyou.” Enjolras tucked the package under his arm, sliding his phone back into his pocket.“Good luck with Venezuela.”“Good luck with people trying to steal your stuff.” Enjolras replied. “I’ll…” he hesitated, lingering in the doorway for a moment like he didn’t quite know what to say. “I’ll send you a postcard.”Aka the Notting Hill AU nobody asked for, where Enjolras thinks he's the suavest man alive and Grantaire thinks he's doing a good job of hiding his feelings. Predictably, they fall in love.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Marius/Cosette, Musichetta/Bahorel
Comments: 16
Kudos: 32





	1. Weird but Nice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mushroomman225](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushroomman225/gifts).



> Hello! I'm back, and still writing! Was gone for a minute there, but then I was watching Notting Hill and thinking about these two idiots and well... y'all already know. But its okay! Because this fic is perhaps the biggest labor of love that I've ever created, and would have been literally impossible to publish without the help of my beta/pretty much wife L, who thankfully didn't laugh when I told her that I was desperate to fix my love/hate relationship with this film (the hate is exclusively reserved for Anna Scott). She's the greatest, and also is one of the only people kind enough to tell me when my jokes aren't landing. That's why this fic is for her!
> 
> Anyway, there's not much else to say, save that this is probably a little different than your typical celebrity AU. But in a good way! And also that I love 90's Hugh Grant, always and forever.
> 
> Let's do this!  
> \- Jo

If anyone asked, Grantaire would probably say the morning was his favorite part of the day. Not the waking up bit exactly, that was terrible, but the part that came after. It was one of the only moments he got to himself during the day, and he’d be damned if he was going to let it pass by unaccounted for. As it stood, he could already hear the shouting and car horns of the street below, but he was willing to let it stand if he got to stay in bed a few moments longer.  
The sun was slanting through his blinds in a way that wasn’t entirely comfortable, and he resolutely shut his eyes as he yawned and stretched, reaching to turn off his alarm, which hadn’t yet tried to wake him. It rarely did now, he found, because he always seemed to be up earlier than he wanted. Not wanting to depress himself this early in the morning, he chalked it up to his roommate, who from the sound of it was already awake and trashing the place in whatever way had inspired him that morning.

There was a crash of pots and pans, then the sound of feet on the stairs, then someone storming past his door. He rolled his eyes and flung off the covers, pulling a T-shirt over his head and shoving his legs into a pair of pants.

“B?” he called out, venturing into the hallway. “What’s going on? You’re never up this early.”

“Not usually!” Bahorel exclaimed, throwing open the door to the bathroom and making Grantaire startle so bad he managed to smack his shoulder into the doorframe. He bustled past and back down the stairs, humming a strange dissonant tune as he went. Despite the numerous times Grantaire had asked, he still refused to wear anything but his boxers around the house.

“Right…” Grantaire sighed, following him down at a much slower pace. “So can I ask what, on this particular morning, made you decide to wake up the better half of this part of the building?”

“It’s because I – oh shit.” Bahorel skittered backwards as he opened the fridge and a Tupperware jumped out at him, splattering some of its contents. He shut the fridge. “It’s because today I have something wildly important.”

“Oh?”  
“After months and months of asking around, it would seem that I finally have secured a prospective girlfriend.”

“Prospective girlfriend?” 

“Or a girl who’s willing to be seen with me, at any rate.”

He continued humming as he scooped up the Tupperware and tossed across the room, where it landed farther than Grantaire would’ve liked from the sink. Despite apparently having been up all morning, his hair was still a wreck, and he looked like he hadn’t shaven in days. Suddenly, he spun around again, leaning against the counter.

“Which reminds me!” he cried. Grantaire waited for him to finish his dramatic pause, because with Bahorel it was best to see how things played out sometimes. “I need your help.”

“What with?”

Bahorel held up one finger, then hustled past him and disappeared back up the stairs, making the noise of about fifteen people. Grantaire made his way to the coffee machine, willing his body awake as best he could with how little sleep he’d gotten. He turned as Bahorel descended once more, then made a small, choked noise as he tried to stifle a laugh.

“What do you think?” his roommate asked, giving a tug on the T-shirt he was now wearing, which proudly proclaimed ‘God, Guns and Glory.’

“This is for… the date?” Grantaire asked, trying to stay neutral.

“Yes!” Bahorel said it like it should have been obvious.

“Right. Well… it’s not the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.” he managed to force out.

“No worries, next one then.” Bahorel said brightly, and Grantaire really had to hand it to him for his sense of optimism as he left again. Whoever this girl was, she’d better have a high tolerance for the absolute insanity that was the man he was sharing his apartment with.

“I’ve got a better feeling about this one!” he cried from the top floor. Grantaire did not. But then again, he rarely had a good feeling about anything remotely romantic these days. Maybe girls were into guns and glory. He steeled himself for the next fashion abomination, this one purple and stripy and across which was written ‘Good Girls Go to Heaven, Bad Girls Go Backstage.’

“Yeah, well…”

“Well?”

“Again, might not make her think you have romance on the mind.”  
Bahorel nodded resolutely, then went back to change into what Grantaire decided would be the final shirt whether it was atrocious or not. Amazingly, this one was slightly better, if not just as off-putting, reading ‘You Are The Most Beautiful Woman I’ve Ever Seen.’

“Oh, definitely.” Grantaire nodded. “That’s the one.”

“Really?” Bahorel beamed.

“Really.”

“Thanks R, you’re a lifesaver, seriously.” He turned once more to head up the stairs, and this time Grantaire didn’t manage to catch himself, letting out a small snort of laughter at the ‘DTF?!’ stamped across his back.

By the time he had actually gotten the old, shitty coffee machine to work, Bahorel had long since gone quiet above him, and he heaved a long sigh as he slid into one of the kitchen chairs, trying to find a place to set down his mug that wasn’t covered in old chip bags and dishes that needed to be washed. If only Montparnasse could see the pace now, he’d probably have a fit.

Grantaire rolled his eyes, because how dare his stupid brain interrupt his lovely morning with thoughts of Montparnasse, and as punishment took a sip of the still scalding coffee. It brought him back into himself a little bit, and he felt a bit better about facing the day, even if the sounds of cars outside was only increasing in pitch with every passing moment.

It still felt strange, sometimes, sitting at the table by himself in the morning. He could still remember how his ex-fiancée had looked when he’d first woken up, all disheveled hair and scratchy morning voice and mumbled pleas for coffee over plates of eggs on toast that Grantaire had thrown together. Neither of them had ever been able to cook, but Grantaire had been willing to try if it made the other man happy, which it did. Not happy enough, apparently, but you couldn’t fault a guy for trying.

He ran a hand through his hair as he took another sip of his drink, mentally running through the list of things he had to do at the bookshop in order to distract himself. If he was so intent on making himself miserable this morning, he could simply think about rent for the run-down building he called a business, no need to even bring failed relationships into it. Who knew travel books were going to be such a bust.

The air was cold and damp when he stepped into the street, the bag on his arm heavy with books and old sale receipts. It was farmers market day, and so people had come from all over to set up their stands, effectively stopping traffic entirely for almost the entire street. Even so, some particularly adventurous roadmen had still decided to take this route, and sat behind the wheels of their cars with one hand holding a cigarette and the other laid solidly on the horn, blending into a cacophony which might have deafened Grantaire had he not dealt with the same bullshit every week for four years.

He fumbled for his keys as he reached the door of his tiny building, which sat on the corner and had a large painted sign that said “Books de Rue de Villette” in large blue letters. For lack of funding, Grantaire had painted it himself, but he was rather proud of it. By the time he had managed to unlock the door, it was already being opened from the other side.

“Well if isn’t my only coworker.” Combeferre smiled, swinging the door wide.

“Technically your boss.” Grantaire rolled his eyes, but gave a small smirk in return.

“Same difference, we both know that I do more work around here anyway.”

“Sure.” Grantaire heaved his bag onto the small checkout counter, the moved to flip the sign on the door to ‘open.’ “So, any exciting news?”

“My landlord approved my request for a dog.”

“I meant more in the vein of travel book salesmanship, but that’s good.”

“Ah.” Combeferre smirked again, then gave a sage nod. “As always, nothing exciting to report, same old tourists I’m afraid, though there was someone who came in yesterday after you left and picked up eight books on Bali.”

“Eight copies of the same book?” Grantaire slid into the chair behind the counter, bracing his chin on his clasped hands.

“Yep.” Combeferre nodded. “Weirdo.”

“The way I see it, that’s the most exciting sale we’ve had all week, so may he have a safe journey on all eight of his vacations.” He raised his fist in a mock toast, and the other man did the same, leaning against a rather precarious looking shelf behind him. 

“Speaking of exciting sales, I’m sure a day of plenty awaits us.” Combeferre gave a small mock bow. “Fancy a coffee?”

“God yes.” Grantaire slumped dramatically over the counter, nearly knocking his bag to the floor in the process.

“Great, what can I get you?” 

“Whatever’s smallest, not feeling terribly liquid at the moment.”

“Come on, not even with all those Bali books?” Combeferre smirked, giving a small laugh when Grantaire flipped him off.

“Just go get the damn coffees, or employee of the month is going to me again.” 

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever Rockefeller.” Ferre replied as he stepped out into the cold, the door jingling as it slammed shut behind him.  
Grantaire laughed and shook his head, then turned to the counter next to him, opening the top of the dusty record player and moving the needle onto the disc. 

Combeferre said it was ridiculous to play vinyl in the store when Bluetooth had been invented almost a decade ago, but Grantaire insisted that aesthetics must be preserved. And since he was technically the boss (and Combeferre happened to be one of the most accommodating people he’d ever met, if the most prone to griping), the record player stayed where it was, and ground out indie songs into the tiny shop all day long.

The door jingled open again, and a small, round man in a tartan coat wandered in, completely ignoring the small wave Grantaire gave him and heading to the back of the shop, where he promptly began inspecting a copy of ‘Turkey Today.’ Grantaire busied himself shelving the books he had brought with him, trying to ignore how desperately disorganized everything seemed to be. 

He had just succeeded in righting a very haphazard stack of travel encyclopedias when the door jingled again, bringing with it a gust of freezing air. Grantaire turned around expectantly, a demand for caffeine halfway out of his mouth, before he locked eyes with someone who was decidedly not Combeferre and almost tipped the stack all over again. He looked away, then looked again, then forced himself to stop after the third time, at risk of appearing a total idiot.

Thankfully, the stranger didn’t appear to notice, stepping past him and around a bookshelf with a small polite nod. Grantaire took a moment to collect himself, then tried to move back behind the counter as nonchalantly as he could. Unfortunately, in his valiant attempts to not stare, he managed to slide a cup full of pens onto the floor, where they landed with a rather conspicuous noise.

The stranger turned and looked at him, then at the pens, raising an eyebrow. Grantaire wondered if there was a nonsuspicious way to off yourself using only travel brochures and a cash register. After what felt like an absolutely agonizing moment of silence, Grantaire leaned across the desk, trying to make himself the picture of calm.

“Can I help you?” he forced out.

“No thanks.” the stranger shook his head. “Just looking around.”

“Sure.”

Thankfully choosing not to comment on the stationary on the floor situation, he turned back to the shelf he had been browsing, grabbing a book at random and flipping through. Grantaire trained his eyes on the wood grain in front of him. Enjolras. That was his name, it suddenly occurred to him through the haze of embarrassment. He’d seen him in a movie the week before, and now, in some stroke of cosmic humor, he was standing five feet away from him in his shitty bookshop in a tiny street in France, and somehow looked even better in person. Maybe it was best not to dwell on that last bit. He racked his brain for something to say, then leaned even farther over the counter.

“That one’s not any good.” he said, perhaps a bit louder than necessary. Enjolras looked up, then down at the book he was holding.

“Oh?”

“Wouldn’t recommend, kind of dry actually but uh…” he grabbed one of the books on display in front of him. “This one! This one’s good.”

“The Travelers Guide to Venezuela?”

“I think the author’s actually left France, which helps I imagine in… you know, worldly writing.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“That or you don’t even need to leave your house to sound like a prick.” 

Enjolras smiled, and Grantaire tried to pretend that his stomach wasn’t actively doing some sort of gymnastic exercise. He was just starstruck, he told himself. Normal people are always nervous in front of celebrities, half the reason they exist is to remind us that we’re all part of the ninety-nine percent. He was about to speak again, against his better judgement, when suddenly the CCTV screen caught his eye. Sighing, he turned to Enjolras.

“Just a moment, please.”

He slid off the stool and strode to the back of the shop, where the man who had come in moments earlier was still pretending to browse shelves.

“Hey.” he deadpanned. The man turned to him.

“Yeah?”

“Ever heard of something called a security camera?”

“Might have.”

“Great!” Grantaire plastered on a fake smile. “Well, thanks to the funding of loyal customers like yourself, this shop has one.”

“So?”

“So I know you’re hiding one of my books under that atrocious coat.”

There came a small noise from the front of the shop, something that could have been a laugh, but Grantaire wasn’t going to get his hopes up. The man had gone slightly paler.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said weakly. Grantaire raised an eyebrow.

“Well then I guess you’ll have no problem with me calling the police then? Letting them have a looksee?” 

“Look, I don’t want any trouble…” the man started, but Grantaire was already rolling his eyes and holding up a hand to stop him.

“Nor do I, so let’s do this.” he let out a beleaguered sigh. “I’m going to go back to the front of the store, help out my paying customer, and pretend like I never even saw you. In return, you’re going to either put my book back or fork over the twelve dollars you seem so reluctant to part with.”

“What do you-“

“No need to thank me.” Grantaire flashed him a smile that was all teeth and sauntered back to the front of the store. Enjolras hadn’t moved, a small smirk on his face as he leaned back on the bookshelf once more, infuriatingly casual.

“Sorry about that.” Grantaire slid back behind his desk, partly because he actually had work to do and partly because he was worried he’d burst into flames if he stood too close to the human Apollo who had decided to grace his bookstore that morning.

“Occupational hazard of selling so many hot commodity books I guess.” It took Grantaire a moment of looking at Enjolras’ face to realize it was a joke, and even when he did the noise he let out was slightly strangled.

He was about to say something to save himself from total incompetency when the other customer came bustling back over to the counter, slamming the book and a crumpled wad of cash next to the register. Grantaire gave another one of his best customer service smiles, glancing at the book as he rang it up.

“Going to Greece?”

“What’s it to you?” the man snapped.

“Fair enough. Thirteen dollars even.”

“You said it was twelve back there.”

“Back there?” Grantaire gave a head jerk in the direction of the back room. “You mean back there where you attempted to steal from my business? My mistake sir.” 

He put up his hands in a show of surrender, and the small chuckle Enjolras let out made his heart beat a little faster than he was ready to admit. The man was just about to retort, no doubt using incredibly colorful curse words, when he caught Enjolras out of the corner of his eye and stopped.

“Hey!” he pointed at Enjolras excitedly, a bit too close for comfort. “You’re that movie star!”

“That’s me.” Enjolras gave a smile that could’ve lit up the better part of France, ignoring the finger inches from his nose.

“I saw you in that movie about the…” he hesitated a moment. “the sword fighting on train cars! Brilliant stuff.”

“Oh no way!” Enjolras beamed, and it was then that Grantaire realized he was absolutely playing this man for a fool. “It’s nice to hear stuff like that, I don’t think we have enough movies about trains, personally, so you know, doing my bit and all that.”

“Can I have an autograph?”

“Sure!”

Hurriedly, the man grabbed a receipt out of his pocket, shoving the crumpled piece of paper into Enjolras’ hand. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and laid it on the counter, scrawling out a small message in extravagant, loopy handwriting. Grantaire locked his eyes on where Enjolras’ curls had fallen across his face, starstruck in a whole different way for a moment.

“Here you go.” Enjolras smoothed out the paper and held it up to read, clearing his throat. “Dear Bookshop Guy, hope you enjoy Greek prison!” Grantaire let out a snort.

The man was livid by now, openly fuming as he snatched the paper from Enjolras’ hand and bustled back out the door. Enjolras looked at Grantaire for a moment, eyebrow raised, before they both burst into laughter. Of course the fucker looked even better when he smiled.

“That was… impressive.” Grantaire slumped his head onto his hand, offering Enjolras another smile that he hoped was charming.

“I think the word you’re looking for is unnecessary.” Enjolras sighed, still laughing quietly as he raked a hand through his hair. “But thank you anyway.”

“Of course.”

“You know what, just for that, I’m going to buy one of these terrible books.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Enjolras schooled his expression into one of seriousness. “Thought long and hard about it, but I think I’m going to spare the cash, what’s life without risks yeah? Always wanted to go to…” he turned to his side, grabbing the first book he saw on the shelf. “Venezuela.”

“Well that works out then.” Grantaire wondered if he was openly swooning. “I’ll ring you up.”  
Enjolras hummed something under his breath as he tapped through his phone while Grantaire put his book in a paper bag, stapling the receipt to the outside. He smoothed the crumpled edges as best he could, then slid it back across the counter. Enjolras grabbed for it, still texting, and for a moment their hands brushed, his long, elegant fingers running against Grantaire’s in a way that made him catch his breath.

“Thanks for your business!” he forced out, pulling back like he’d been burned to prevent himself doing anything stupid.

“Thank _you _.” Enjolras tucked the package under his arm, sliding his phone back into his pocket.__

____

____

“Good luck with Venezuela.”

“Good luck with people trying to steal your stuff.” Enjolras replied. “I’ll…” he hesitated, lingering in the doorway for a moment like he didn’t quite know what to say. “I’ll send you a postcard.”

And then, just as quietly as he’d come in, he was gone, and Grantaire let his head slide forward and bang onto the desk. His heart was still racing, and he closed his eyes for a moment, letting the cold feeling of the wood soak into his forehead and trying to take deep breaths. After a moment, he sat back up, shaking his head slightly, as though he might have dreamed the whole thing.

“You have _got _to get laid soon.” he announced to the empty bookstore.__

__The bell on the door jingled again, and for a moment Grantaire’s heart was in his throat, hoping to god whoever it was hadn’t just heard him whining like a twenty-eight year old virgin in his place of business. He didn’t know whether or not to be disappointed when the door swung open to reveal not Enjolras, but Combeferre, balancing two steaming coffees in his hands._ _

__“You will not fucking believe how long the line was at this place.” he sighed dramatically as he placed the cups down next to the register. Grantaire, who was still vaguely in a trance, didn’t move._ _

__“So,” Ferre shed his coat and dumped in unceremoniously on the ground behind the counter. “anything exciting happen while I was gone? Any exciting new business offers?”_ _

__“Hmm?”_ _

__“Um…” Ferre waved a hand in front of his face. “You in there?”_ _

__“Hmm? Shit, yeah sorry, you were saying?”_ _

__“I was asking about the success of this business were running together.” Combeferre began restacking shelves. “Anything exciting?”_ _

__“Nope.” Grantaire sighed. “Nothing of note, I’m afraid, just… some guy trying to sneak out with a book shoved down his pants, the usual.”_ _

__“Ew.” Ferre wrinkled his nose. “Please tell me he bought it.”_ _

__“With some convincing.”_ _

__“Lovely.”_ _

__“Isn’t it?”_ _

__Grantaire busied himself changing out the record on the player, which had ground to a halt sometime in the window of him falling madly in love with a stranger. He slid on one of his favorite Bach concerts, waiting a moment until the music ground out of the speakers, then started mindlessly reorganizing his desk, letting his brain wander farther and farther into the realm of Enjolras._ _

__He wanted to convince himself it wasn’t real, because truly, why in the fuck would a movie star wind up in his bookstore? But he realized that his hand was still buzzing where Enjolras had touched it, like the other man was made of some sort of electricity. Something especially designed to work on recently single recovering alcoholic men with broken hearts, Grantaire supposed._ _

__Suddenly realizing that he had perhaps wandered a bit too far into the realm of fantastical yearning, he stood up from where he’d been kneeling at the shelves behind his desk, making Ferre look over at him in a way that was still slightly concerned. Grantaire had never been good at hiding things._ _

__“I’m going out for a minute.” he said, like it was some sort of declaration. “You want anything?”_ _

__“I’m good.” Ferre picked up another book, then looked at him closer. “Are you sure you’re okay?”_ _

__“Yeah!” Grantaire put on a forced smile. “Totally fine, peachy actually, just need to uh… clear my head.” It was a lame excuse, and they both knew it, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care as he raced out the door and into the street, belatedly realizing he’d grabbed his coffee but left his coat._ _

__The wind bit through his T-shirt as he hustled down the various pavements, not even entirely sure where he was going. Another coffee perhaps. The first one was still near scalding as he held it, but he needed some sort of cover story for when he went back to Combeferre. He increased his speed, charging through various sections of the farmers market as if he could outrun his stupid, lovestruck thoughts._ _

__He was so absorbed in his own misery for a moment that he didn’t even notice his eyes were glued to his feet, looking up just in time for him to careen into another person as he turned a corner._ _

__“Holy shit.” The person snapped, stumbling backwards. The hastened apology was halfway out of Grantaire’s mouth before he realized who it was and immediately choked on it._ _

__“You’re kidding.” he sighed instead, then mentally slapped himself._ _

__There, standing on the sidewalk and absolutely drenched in a subpar cappuccino, was Enjolras, carrying a load of shopping bags and looking decidedly more pissed off than he had fifteen minutes ago. Still somehow perfect, but pissed off all the same._ _

__“Shit, shit, I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking…” Grantaire rambled._ _

__“It’s fine.” Enjolras snapped, surveying the damage and doing his best to mop up the mess of what had once been a very expensive cream colored sweater._ _

__“Shit I…” Grantaire looked around desperately, then his face lit up. “I have a bathroom.” The look Enjolras gave him could have cut glass._ _

__“And?”_ _

__“At my house.” he took a deep breath. “I have a bathroom at my house, it’s just down the street, you can change there._ _

__“Brilliant.” Enjolras groaned slightly. “How far is down the street?”_ _

__“Its right there.” Grantaire pointed at his apartment. “Blue door. Five minutes to clean up and get changed and you can be back on the street. In the… non-prostitute sense, obviously.”_ _

__“Obviously.”_ _

__“So it’s a deal then?”_ _

__“Fine.”_ _

__Grantaire regretted his valiance almost the moment they walked into the apartment, his face flushing as he realized just how disgusting he and Bahorel were. He looked at the front hallway hopelessly for a moment, then quickly swept aside a few boxes with his foot, trying to at least clear a path to walk through._ _

__“Come on in, sorry about the mess, we uh… we haven’t finished moving in I guess.” He grabbed a handful of receipts from the end table and shoved them in his pockets as Enjolras finally maneuvered his bags through the narrow doorway._ _

__He looked weirdly out of place, Grantaire thought, standing in the shabby front hallway with all of his expensive purchases. Like he was too bright for the room or something, a spot of radiance in an otherwise small and dingy apartment. Remarkably, his face wasn’t one of judgement, just impassiveness, surveying the room as if he was truly interested._ _

__“We?” Enjolras asked after a moment._ _

__“Yeah my… my roommate and I, we share, saves on rent.”_ _

__“Roommate?”_ _

__“Yeah.” Grantaire ran a hand along the back of his neck, slouching over like he could make himself disappear if he tried hard enough. “I used to live with someone else, but he uh, I mean we…” he shook himself out of his thoughts. “The bathroom is upstairs.”_ _

__“Oh.” Enjolras’ face was unreadable, but his eyes didn’t leave Grantaire, who resisted the urge to squirm under the attention. “Right.”_ _

__He brushed past him then, shopping bags banging into the wall, and made his way upstairs. Grantaire took a moment to silently thank God Bahorel didn’t seem to be here, then immediately recanted his thanks as he walked into the kitchen, which was somehow even worse than it had been when he left._ _

__Upstairs was silent, so Grantaire moved as quickly as he could, scooping up breakfast dishes and throwing them in the sink, shoving chairs back into place, generally trying to make it look like functioning adults lived there. He had just finished shoving a plate full of half-eaten eggs into a cupboard when he heard the sound of footsteps descending back down the stairs. He turned around as casually as he could, and immediately double recanted his thanks, because clearly someone in the universe had it out for him._ _

__Enjolras had changed out of his sweater and jeans, and instead was torturing Grantaire with a pair of fancy black trousers and a deep red button down, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Grantaire didn’t know at what point in the day he’d turned into a swooning regency era maiden, but for whatever reason, the new exposed skin was driving him absolutely fucking crazy. He had skin that looked like it was sculpted out of marble, delicate wrists leading into slender, gorgeous hands that were worthy of their own Smithsonian exhibit. This outfit was also much tighter around his shoulders than the previous had been, and it was driving Grantaire to absolute distraction._ _

__“Well.” Grantaire cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets. “That looks better than the… sweater, I suppose.”_ _

__“Thanks.” Enjolras reached up and fixed his collar, then ran his fingers through his hair, something that he seemed to do a lot._ _

__“I can front the dry cleaning bill if you need.” Grantaire lied, knowing even as he said it that he barely had the money for rent this week, let alone for handsome strangers laundry. “Clear my conscience a bit.”_ _

__“Won’t be necessary.” Enjolras seemed to relax for the first time since they had smashed into each other. “Kind of hated that thing anyway, gift from my mother I think.”_ _

__“Ahh.” Grantaire let out a small chuckle. “So it was a fashion choice made out of guilt, I see.”_ _

__“You could say that, though more so because it’s too fucking cold to think today.” Enjolras sighed. Him swearing should not have been as attractive as it was. Grantaire scrambled._ _

__“Can I give you a coffee?” he blurted out. “Or uh… offer, can I offer you a coffee?”_ _

__“I’m okay.” Enjolras was smirking again._ _

__“Tea?”_ _

__“Nope.”_ _

__“Okay, well…” Grantaire crossed to the fridge, opening the door and blocking Enjolras from view for a moment. “Orange jui- actually probably not.” He heard the other man snicker._ _

__“No thanks.”_ _

__“Then uh… food, maybe? We have…” Almost exclusively bachelor food, thanks to Bahorel. “Pickles, some sort of canned cheese thing, how do you feel about yogurt?”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“I’m never going to eat it, is the thing, because Bahorel always does the grocery shopping, since I have the job, and then he does whatever he does all day and I come home to a fridge full of yogurt and cheese whiz, and I always tell him we need to come up with a list system, but then he loses the list and I… anyway.” He popped his head over the fridge door, trying to ignore the social turmoil he’d just created for himself with whatever the fuck that monologue was. Enjolras was smiling. “Yogurt.”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Do you…” Grantaire sighed, shutting the fridge and shoving his hands back into his pockets. “Do you always say no to everything?”  
Enjolras gave him a long, searching look, still smiling, like he was in on some sort of joke Grantaire hadn’t caught on to yet. Probably so. His smile widened, and after a moment, he shook his head._ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Well.” Grantaire let out a small laugh, thankfully less shrill than his last couple had been. “Guess I’m just lucky then.”_ _

__“Guess so.” Grantaire realized how close together they were now that he’d removed the door between them. He could’ve reached out and touched him if he was  
feeling brave. “I should be going, though.”_ _

__“Right!” Grantaire nodded slightly. “Things to do, I imagine.”_ _

__“Thanks for your help.”_ _

__“You’re welcome.” Grantaire steeled himself. “And also, you know… perfect.”_ _

__“Thanks.” Enjolras didn’t seem taken aback, as if he’d been expecting Grantaire to say something that stupid. If anything, he looked amused.  
Grantaire shuffled past him and back into the entryway, moving towards the door. Enjolras followed, picking hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt again. For a moment, they stood in the doorway, just far enough away for it to be awkward. Grantaire’s tongue felt like lead in his mouth._ _

__“It was nice to meet you.” he finally managed, feeling like he should feel the silence. “Weird, but nice.” He wondered how many objects that could inflict mortal self-injury were in his reach._ _

__“You too.” Enjolras gave a small smile again, then stepped out and into the street. The door closing behind him seemed loud in the small space. After a moment, he turned to the small mirror by the door, face darkening._ _

__“ _Weird _but nice?” he demanded of his reflection. “You’re fucking kidding.”___ _

____He had just begun the long walk of shame back to his kitchen when suddenly there was a knocking at the door, which startled him out of his skin despite its politeness._ _ _ _

____“Can’t get a moment of fucking privacy.” he grumbled, swinging the door open. Just his luck._ _ _ _

____“Hey.” he said weakly, staring at Enjolras, who was once again on his doorstep. “Forget something?”_ _ _ _

____“My bags.” He pointed awkwardly behind Grantaire as he let himself in and closed the door, and the shorter man turned and grabbed them, placing them in Enjolras’ hands in such a way that they wouldn’t touch again. It had been a weird day, he wasn’t sure what he might do if that happened._ _ _ _

____“There.” Grantaire gave a small nod, wondering if he looked as lost as he felt. They were somehow almost touching again, so close that he had to look upwards slightly to meet the other man’s eyes. “Anything else?”_ _ _ _

____“I don’t…” Enjolras trailed off, staring at Grantaire with his piercing blue eyes again. Then suddenly, too quick for him to react, the blond man had leaned forward, pressing his lips to Grantaire’s._ _ _ _

____Grantaire froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. There was no way Enjolras couldn’t hear his heartbeat in the confined space of the hallway, the sound ringing in his ears until he couldn’t hear anything else. Then, as quickly as he could manage, he forced his brain to pull itself together, moving one of his hands up to rest on Enjolras’ jaw. By all accounts, it was a chaste kiss, over almost as soon as it began, but Grantaire could’ve sworn his vision blacked out for a moment when they pulled apart. The silence was unbearable._ _ _ _

____“I’m so sorry.” Grantaire said before he could stop himself. “About the… the weird but nice thing, I have no clue why I said that.”_ _ _ _

____“It’s okay.” Enjolras flashed his teeth, and Grantaire would’ve almost sworn that he looked nervous as well. “I think the groceries monologue was the worst bit, if that makes you feel any better.”_ _ _ _

____“Oh thanks.” Grantaire crossed his arms and then uncrossed them, not knowing what to do with his hands. “I was worried actually, thought I’d really made an idiot of myself.”_ _ _ _

____“Wouldn’t want that.” Enjolras was laughing again, and Grantaire felt warmth bubble up in his chest._ _ _ _

____“Of course not.”_ _ _ _

____Grantaire was about to say something to incriminate himself further when suddenly the door they were standing in front of began to move. Grantaire’s eyes shot to Enjolras, panicked._ _ _ _

____“Shit. My roommate, there’s absolutely no excuse for him, just…”_ _ _ _

____“Grantaire, you’ll never guess what this girl can do with her tongue and an empty cherry jar- oh. Hello!” Bahorel said brightly, looking between the two of them._ _ _ _

____“Hi.” Enjolras said awkwardly. Grantaire gave a small wave, stepping back from Enjolras just enough to disguise what they’d been doing before they were barged in on._ _ _ _

____“Nice shirt.” Enjolras raised an eyebrow at the proclamation of love across Bahorel’s chest, and Grantaire prayed he didn’t turn around._ _ _ _

____“Thanks!” Bahorel didn’t seem to know who Enjolras was, which was a stroke of luck Grantaire couldn’t quite believe. He supposed he did look a bit different than he generally did in the movies._ _ _ _

____“Anyway, Grantaire, you have to hear about this date, I’m telling you she was…” he did a crude hand gesture that Enjolras grimaced at. “ _Smokin _’.”___ _ _ _

______“Can’t wait.” Grantaire sighed, giving a grimace of his own that he hoped he could pass off as a smile._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m absolutely starving though, give me a minute.” He disappeared into the kitchen, taking with him his customary deafening amount of noise. Grantaire put his head in his hands, letting out a groan._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Told you.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“He seems… eccentric.” Enjolras winced as a particularly loud bang came from the other room._ _ _ _ _ _

______“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him.” Grantaire leaned back against the wall, playing with the hem of his T-shirt. “Ever.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The silence was still heavy, but thankfully less charged then it had been before, the mood shattered by whatever Bahorel was doing on the other side of the apartment. Enjolras ran the toe of his boot across the wood flooring, neither of them looking at each other for a moment._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You probably…” he sighed. “I think it would be best if you didn’t tell anyone about this.” He gestured between them awkwardly, and Grantaire nodded. He knew why._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I don’t think they’d believe me if I did.” he said with a tight smile. “Shit, I don’t even really believe me.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Me either.” Enjolras replied. “I’ll see you around then?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Grantaire nodded before his brain had time to catch up with what he’d just heard, then Enjolras reached out and grabbed his hand, briefly, giving it a small squeeze as he opened the door again. When he closed it behind him, it was softer than before._ _ _ _ _ _

______Grantaire stood for a moment, the emptiness of the hallway feeling consuming. He turned back to the mirror, noticing there was a flush high on his cheeks where there hadn’t been before, and his shirt was slightly rumpled from pressing up against Enjolras. He smoothed it out, then brought a still slightly shaking hand to his lips, marveling at his own reflection. He felt different._ _ _ _ _ _

______“See you around?” he asked, to no one in particular._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Grantaire?” Bahorel called, reappearing once again from the kitchen. Grantaire snapped out of it._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yeah?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You up for a movie night tonight? I picked something up while I was out, pirates or… horses, something like that.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Pirates or horses sounds great.” Grantaire relented, knowing there was no point in arguing._ _ _ _ _ _

______“It’s a date then!” Bahorel beamed, and Grantaire tried to ignore the fact that he was holding what appeared to be a solid block of lunchmeat. "Now about this girl..."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Blessedly, Grantaire’s phone rang, saving him from more tales of Bahorel’s sexual escapades. He fished it out of his pocket, holding up a hand to silence Bahorel. It was Ferre._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey.” he started. “Look, I’m sorry, something happened at the apartment, occupational hazard, I’m on my way.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Thank God, we’re having a rush.” Ferre sighed._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Seriously?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“No, but I’m bored, come back.” At that, Grantaire gave a small smile._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m coming.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______By the time Grantaire had slogged his way to the bookshop, finished ringing up two more straggling customers, and come back to the apartment again, he was exhausted. A headache was starting behind his eyes, and he didn’t even bother taking off his shoes as he sank into the couch, where Bahorel had already been for who knows how long, watching reality shows._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ready for this?” he asked, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You know it.” Grantaire let his head roll backwards onto the couch, not even trying to stop himself from thinking about Enjolras. How his lips had felt on his. His chest felt warm again, as if his heart was trying to escape. He didn’t mind._ _ _ _ _ _

______He was so lost in his own head that he didn’t even realize what the movie was until about ten minutes in, when he heard a voice he recognized, and his head snapped up. As if he was following him for the third time that day, Enjolras was on screen, his hair a deep black instead of its usual color. He looked at home amongst all of the lights of film, Grantaire thought. Perhaps it was the only place bright enough that he didn’t outshine everything else. Grantaire shook his head. He was so fucked.  
Screen Enjolras was now running across a field, dressed in the costume of a time period Grantaire didn’t care about, and letting a pretty blond girl throw herself into his arms._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m so sorry I let you go.” he said softly, his nose buried in her hair._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I would’ve waited forever for you to come back.” the girl replied, grabbing Enjolras by the collar and pulling him in for a deep, passionate, Hollywood kiss. Despite the terrible dialogue, Grantaire felt his cheeks heating up, his eyes shamelessly glued to the graceful slope of Enjolras’ jawline as he embraced his fictional lover._ _ _ _ _ _

______“This is corny.” he said after a moment, more to tear himself away than anything else. He was not letting himself get possessive of a man he barely knew, he simply wasn’t._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Shut up, you’re just jealous.” Bahorel replied flippantly, as if he was reading his mind._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Of the girl.” Bahorel pressed on. “I mean, God, can you imagine being paid to kiss someone who looked like that?” He shoveled more popcorn into his mouth. Grantaire let out an embarrassingly dreamy sigh._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I know.” Bahorel shot him a look across the couch, and he shook his head to snap out of it. “I’m probably not his type though.” Bahorel snorted out a laugh._ _ _ _ _ _

______“ _Definitely _not.” he chuckled, clicking up the volume on the remote. Grantaire suppressed a laugh of his own.___ _ _ _ _ _

________Bahorel fell asleep before the movie even ended, leaving Grantaire alone with Enjolras’ voice and the memory of how his lips had felt pressed up against his own. He gave a deep, happy sigh and settled back into the cushions, staring at Enjolras openly for the first time all day. For the first time ever, really. He let out a small laugh that only he could hear, reaching over and grabbing the remote, pressing rewind before he could stop himself. You could get addicted to a feeling like this, he thought. He sighed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I am _so _fucked.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	2. Lime Green Ski Pants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! Slightly late, because that's just the way I roll, but deeply exciting nonetheless. As always, thank you to my beta L, without whom this entire chapter would've canonically taken place at 7:30 am, as I'm very silly and don't know how time works. Also she laughed at my very stupid Vogue joke. Anyways, enjoy a chapter that's slightly shorter, but even more more brilliant and hilarious, I promise.  
> \- Jo

In a spectacular stroke of fate that Grantaire felt he should’ve expected, the shop was absolutely empty for the next three days. Which left him with hours upon hours to wander around and pretend to stack shelves and play the same classical records over and over. And also, coincidentally, time to definitely not think about a certain movie star. Except that, as famous people tend to be, he was everywhere. Every magazine rack, every billboard, every side of every passing bus and taxi. At least that’s what it felt like. Grantaire thought he might be going crazy. 

“Hey R?” Combeferre emerged from the tiny back office of the store, shrugging his coat onto his shoulders. Grantaire sat up from where he’d been half dozing behind his desk.

“What’s up?”

“I think I’m going to call it a day, go home and get some sleep.”

“Aww, just when it’s getting exciting?” Grantaire gave a small smile, which Ferre returned. Poor bastard had no idea why Grantaire had been such a nightmare to be around for the past few days.

“Unfortunately I must miss the party again.” he sighed dramatically. “But you should call me if anything exciting happens.”

“Actually, I think I might be right behind you.” Grantaire yawned. “Didn’t sleep for shit last night.”

“Again?”

“Insomnia is a bitch.” It wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Sorry.” Ferre gave him an apologetic look, which was one of the only things he did that was on Grantaire’s list of ‘things about Combeferre that annoy me.’ Grantaire waved it aside.

“I’m fine.” he said automatically. “No better day than a Wednesday to close at…” he checked his watch. “1:30 in the afternoon.”

“Brilliant.” Ferre smiled. “So same time tomorrow then?”

“See you then.” Grantaire gave him a tired smile and wave as he slipped out the door, the breeze he let in momentarily rustling all of the books strewn about haphazardly on various countertops. He stared across the shop at nothing in particular. 

“You’re hopeless.”

With this proclamation made, he slid off his stool and grabbed his own jacket, sliding it on and braving the cold, locking the door behind him. Why anyone would rob a travel bookstore was beyond him, but Ferre insisted, so he did. The wind was absolutely frigid on the walk home, and he tried to convince himself that that was the reason he looked so miserable as he stepped in the door.

“R?” came the call from upstairs. Of course Bahorel was home, because where else would he be.

“Home early.” Grantaire called back, dropping his bag. Bahorel was already bounding back down the stairs, wearing no shirt and a pair of lime green ski pants.

“Business going well, I presume?”

“Ha ha.” Grantaire deadpanned, wandering to the kitchen and grabbing a soda out of the fridge. Then “Are those my skiing pants?”

“Oh these?” Bahorel did a spin. “Yep.”

“Why?”

“Multi-faceted answer really, lack of laundry, chilly in the house…”

“You know if you don’t do laundry there’s never going to _be _laundry.” Grantaire sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he swung the fridge closed. “Leave my clothes alone.”__

__“Fine, fine, point taken.” Bahorel put his hands up in a show of surrender. “But say I were to go skiing…”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Fine.” he sighed dramatically, making his way back up the stairs. “By the way, someone called for you.”_ _

__“The house phone?” Grantaire perked up slightly, trying to take a sip of his drink as casually as he could._ _

__“Yeah!”_ _

__“No one ever calls the house phone, who was it?”_ _

__“Some guy.” Bahorel shrugged. “Said he was at the ritzy hotel on the other side of town, said to call him back if you wanted to talk about Venezuela.”_ _

__Grantaire choked on his drink, thumping his chest for a moment before looking incredulously to Bahorel._ _

__“What?” he demanded. “How long ago was this?”_ _

__“Maybe three hours?”_ _

__“Shit.” Grantaire shot out of the kitchen faster than he had ever done anything in his life, hustling over to where the house phone sat on its hook in the hallway. He briefly wondered how in the hell Enjolras had gotten ahold of the number._ _

__“Oh also…” Bahorel leaned in through the doorway, ski pants making an obnoxious squeaking sound as he moved. “He said to ask for him under a… a code name, I guess.”_ _

__“A code name?”_ _

__“Like James Bond.” Bahorel was clearly enjoying this, playing the informant. Grantaire pinched the bridge of his nose again to keep from screaming, trying to ignore how his heart was thrumming in his ears again._ _

__“And what was the name?” he asked, in the tone of someone who was only moments away from capital murder._ _

__“Don’t remember.”_ _

__“Awesome.” Grantaire groaned. “That’s… that’s great, B, really.”_ _

__Bahorel gave another lopsided smile, then disappeared into the living room, no doubt in search of more of Grantaire’s clothes he could pilfer. Grantaire gave a deep, bone-weary sigh, scrolling through the phone until he found recent calls. He looked at the hotel number for a moment, weighing his options._ _

__On the one hand, it was possible Bahorel had been wrong, or misheard, and Grantaire was staring at the phone with shaking hands for nothing. The other, much more terrifying option was that Bahorel had been right, and Enjolras would pick up the phone, and they would have to discuss the fact that the first and last time they had met Enjolras had maybe sort of changed his life._ _

__Grantaire took a deep breath, his finger hovering over the call button. He counted down in his head. Then up. Then back down again. Finally, he stilled, the house seeming eerily quiet around him._ _

__“Fuck it.” he groaned, smashing the call button and holding it to his ear before he could stop himself. He paced the three steps back and forth across the hallway, trying to pull himself together as the dial tone droned on in his ear. Finally, there was a click, and Grantaire felt his heart drop into his shoes._ _

__“Hotel management, how may I assist you?”_ _

__“Oh.” Grantaire sucked in a breath. “Hi, uh, I’m looking for someone staying in your hotel currently, I was wondering if you could patch me through?”_ _

__“Of course sir, and what was the name?” the man on the other end said brightly._ _

__“It’s uh… Enjolras?” the name felt strange on his tongue, and he suddenly regretted making this call in almost the exact spot he had last seen the man. “He’s here for a film or… or something I imagine, and-“_ _

__“I’m sorry sir, there’s no one by that name here.”_ _

__“Shit.” Grantaire scrambled. “I’m sorry, can you give me just a moment?”_ _

__“Of course!”_ _

__Grantaire dropped the phone on the end table and raced into the living room, where Bahorel was channel surfing, a stick of beef jerky in his hand._ _

__“Bahorel?” Grantaire hedged, taking another deep breath to calm himself. Bahorel looked up. “I need you to think really, really hard.”_ _

__“Okay?”_ _

__“What was the name Enjolras gave you?”_ _

__“Enjolras? Isn’t that that guy who-“_ _

__“Focus!” Grantaire snapped. “What was the name?” Bahorel stopped for a moment, clearly deep in thought, while Grantaire shifted anxiously from foot to foot._ _

__“It was… something from a book.”_ _

__“A book?”_ _

__“Classic book I think, woman’s name maybe.”_ _

__Grantaire sank his head into his hands and let out a groan, then turned back to the hallway, hustling back to the phone._ _

__“Hello?” he asked urgently._ _

__“Hello sir, I’m still here.”_ _

__“Great, great, I’m looking for someone under the name of…” he racked his brain. “Eyre? Or Heathcliff maybe?”_ _

__“I’m not seeing anyone under any of those names, sir…”_ _

__Grantaire could hear the other man clicking around on a computer, and briefly cursed the fact that he’d made a career in travel books and not regular ones._ _

__“Wait a minute!” the man said, and the way Grantaire almost jumped up and down with excitement was frankly embarrassing. “There’s someone here under the name of… Bennet? Does that sound right?”_ _

__“Yes!” His voice was way too loud in the corridor. “Yes, brilliant, thank you so much, can you put me through?”_ _

__“Just a moment.”_ _

__Then the phone was ringing again, and Grantaire’s heart dropped back into his shoes. He shook out his hands and cleared his throat, practicing out loud how not to sound like an idiot._ _

__“Hello!” he said excitedly. Then deeper “Hello. What’s up? Enjolras, how’s it been?” shook his head again, grimacing at how forced he sounded. Then the line clicked, and he held his breath._ _

__“Hello?”_ _

__“Hi! It’s Grantaire, uh, from the bookshop?” he winced slightly._ _

__“I have to say, I was starting to think you were never going to call me.” Enjolras drawled from the other end of the line, the smile in his voice evident. Grantaire was sweating._ _

__“If I lie and say I was playing hard to get will that make me more interesting?”_ _

__“You’re plenty interesting.” Enjolras laughed, and Grantaire physically had to grab the side of a table to keep from tipping over._ _

__“So…” he stammered. “What can I do for you?”_ _

__“Wanted to know if you were free today.”_ _

__“If I’m… oh, well, yeah, got off work early actually.” he gave a nervous laugh._ _

__“Perfect.” Enjolras sounded way too pleased with himself. “How does around four sound then? All my press stuff should be wrapped up by then.”_ _

__“Press stuff, right.” Grantaire rubbed his hand on the fabric of his jeans, trying to dry it off. “So I should just meet you at the hotel then?”_ _

__“Sure. Then I was thinking coffee maybe?” The teasing in his voice was evident, and Grantaire felt a blush rising up his neck._ _

__“Oh Jesus.” he buried his face in his hand, despite the fact that no one was actually looking at him. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”_ _

__“Nope. See you at four, Grantaire.”_ _

__By the time Grantaire had managed to get dressed, shave, attempt to fix his hair, and give himself about nine different pep talks, the time was already hedging dangerously close to four o’clock. The taxi he hailed drove torturously slow, and the driver was quite honestly snippier than he needed to be when Grantaire demanded they pull over a convenience store. When he finally arrived at the hotel, he all but ran out of the car, hastily throwing a handful of cash in the drivers direction._ _

__The entrance to the hotel lobby was crowded and loud, and he felt weirdly small as he stood in the giant group of people, holding the bouquet of flowers he’d picked up at the convenience store at his side. Everyone seemed to be terribly busy, and some of them were holding clipboards. He had just started to approach the front desk when a rather severe looking woman in a blazer intercepted him._ _

__“Are you here for an interview?” she asked, hardly even looking at him as she typed something into her phone._ _

__“I…” he was at a loss._ _

__“You’ll have to get in line, there’s still two other people who want to talk to him before you.”_ _

__“Oh, right.” he shifted from foot to foot. Clearly this was the press nightmare the other man had thought would be over. “This is… Enjolras, yes?”_ _

__“Sorry?” the woman looked up so sharply Grantaire almost jumped._ _

__“The interview is for Enjolras?”_ _

__“Yes obviously, but like I said, you’ll have to get in line sir.” she pointed to where a small group of stragglers was standing by the elevator._ _

__“Right, thanks.”_ _

__“You’ll need this.” she shoved a piece of paper into his hand before he could stop her. “And… wait a minute, which magazine do you work for?” Grantaire stopped for a moment, desperately trying to think of any magazines he’d ever read._ _

__“Vogue.”_ _

__“Vogue?” she raised an eyebrow, looking appraisingly at his argyle sweater. “Aren’t you all more into… fashion and such?”_ _

__“Usually!” Grantaire had no idea what he was saying. “But we’re uh… branching out. Not enough people reading, you know?”_ _

__“Right.” She stared at him another moment, then hummed dismissively. “Well just wait until they tell you that you can go up.”_ _

__And then she was gone, and Grantaire was left to wander over to the elevator, skimming the paper that she’d thrusted upon him. It appeared to be a list of questions to ask, though none of them made much sense. Artistry and film budgets and creative license, stuff like that. He felt even more out of place, if possible._ _

__He waited fifteen minutes, then thirty, then was just about to contemplate calling Bahorel to come pick him up when a man stepped out of the elevator and gestured him inside. He breathed out a long sigh of relief._ _

__“Alright, we’re a bit tight on time, so you’re going to have to be quick when you talk to him.”_ _

__“Got it.” Grantaire nodded like he knew what he was doing._ _

__“And you’ve gone over your questions?”_ _

__“Hmm?”_ _

__“Your interview questions, sir, he’s not going to appreciate if you-“_ _

__“Oh, right.” He wondered if this man could tell that interview questions were the absolute farthest thing from his mind. “Totally. Front to back.”_ _

__“Good.” The man nodded affirmatively. “And… you brought him flowers?” He cast a furtive glance at the bundle in Grantaire’s hands, which had gone slightly limp from his death grip on them._ _

__“Oh, no, they’re not for him.” Grantaire struggled to come up with anything feasible. “They’re for my girlfriend, uh, apology flowers, she lives in the neighborhood.”_ _

__“Right…” He didn’t seem convinced. Luckily, Grantaire was saved by the elevator doors sliding open with a loud bell sound, revealing a hallway full of people holding cameras and notebooks and coffee, all of whom looked as though they were moments away from passing out on their feet._ _

__“Right this way.” the man from the elevator spoke against the noise, setting a brisk pace through the crowd of people. Grantaire followed him quickly, trying to ignore the way his stomach was twisting up in knots. It had just dawned on him he had no idea what he was going to say. He wiped his hands off on his jeans as they came to a stop in front of one of the doors._ _

__“Five minutes.” The man said brusquely, and then the door swung open, and Grantaire had no choice but to walk through._ _

__The room was one of the most lavishly decorated he’d ever seen, in a hotel or otherwise, and was almost entirely filled with massive bouquets of flowers. Deep purple curtains overhung a plush, high-backed couch, which sat behind an oak coffee table that Grantaire was pretty sure cost more than several months of his rent._ _

__Everything looked as though it had been cleaned only moments earlier, almost gleaming in the sunlight slanting through the giant window. Enjolras was nowhere to be seen, and Grantaire took a moment to catch his breath as the door swung shut behind him._ _

__“Took you long enough.”_ _

__“Jesus fuck!” Grantaire swore, narrowly avoiding slamming his shin into an end table as he jumped about a foot in the air. Enjolras also seemed to startle slightly,  
before he started laughing, loud and sincere. Grantaire scowled._ _

__“Hey, come on, don’t look at me like that!” Enjolras walked towards him, hands up in a placating gesture. “In my defense I didn’t think I would scare you quite that badly.”_ _

__“You didn’t.” Grantaire was smirking just a bit despite himself, giddy at being in the room with Enjolras once again. “Not any more than those people downstairs, anyway.”_ _

__“Oh shit, sorry, press managers.” Enjolras grimaced. “I thought the whole media circus would be over by the time you got here, I swear.”_ _

__“You’d think royalty was visiting.” Grantaire gave a small laugh, trying to play it cool and ignore the fact that Enjolras had left the button down behind and instead chosen an exquisitely tailored black suit._ _

__“You’d be right.” Enjolras gave him a wink as he made his way over to a table full of coffee and pastries, and okay that was simply not fair. Grantaire could feel his face flushing again, being alone with Enjolras scrambling his brain._ _

__“Hey, speaking of…” Enjolras took a sip from a cup of coffee he’d just poured, then started making another. “How did you even get up here?”_ _

__“You’re going to laugh.” Grantaire ran a hand along the back of his neck._ _

__“I’m sure I will. Cream or sugar?”_ _

__“Hmm?”_ _

__“For your coffee.” He gave a small grin as he held up a sky blue mug._ _

__“Black is fine, thanks.” Grantaire thought he might levitate off the ground._ _

__“Gross.” Enjolras shook his head, but walked over and placed the mug in Grantaire’s hand anyway. “Anyway, question.”_ _

__He was the closest he’d been since Grantaire had entered the room, and Grantaire swore he could smell some sort of fancy cologne wafting off of him. He was giving him the same piercing stare he always did, and Grantaire fought the urge to look away._ _

__“They think…” he sighed. “They think I’m an interviewer.”_ _

__Enjolras sputtered into his coffee as he let out another laugh, this one much less dignified, which was almost comforting in a way._ _

__“You’re joking.” He managed to swallow the rest of the scalding liquid without spilling any on his annoyingly attractive outfit. “What magazine?”_ _

__“Nope.”_ _

__“Oh come on.”_ _

__“I panicked, I couldn’t think of anything!” Grantaire said defensively, though there was no real feeling behind it._ _

__“It can’t be that bad.”_ _

__“You say that, but-“_ _

__“I promise I won’t laugh.” Enjolras lied, already laughing despite himself, but in the moment he looked so damn endearing that Grantaire couldn’t help himself._ _

__“Vogue.” Grantaire would’ve put his head in his hands if they hadn’t both been occupied. True to form, Enjolras was trying to hold back a snicker._ _

__“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” Grantaire cried._ _

__“I’m not!”_ _

__“You know what?” Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I’m taking these back to mine, I’m keeping them.” He held the flowers he was still holding protectively to his chest._ _

__“Wait a minute.” Enjolras paused his teasing momentarily. “Are those for me?”_ _

__“Uh…” Grantaire suddenly felt insecure. “It… it seemed like the thing to do. I didn’t know what you liked, so I just-“_ _

__“I love them.” Enjolras declared, cutting him off as he took the flowers from his hand, placing them on the end table gently. “You can’t have them back, sorry.”_ _

__“Damn.” Grantaire shook his head, doing a terrible job of feigning disappointment. Enjolras took another sip of coffee._ _

__“So…” Grantaire cleared his throat after a moment. “Why Bennet?”_ _

__“Oh God.” Enjolras rolled his eyes. “It’s a stupid security thing, I always choose something literary.”_ _

__“How pretentious.”_ _

__“Hey!”_ _

__Enjolras swatted him playfully on the arm, and Grantaire desperately tried to pretend he didn’t want to lean into him, hold onto his arm and pull him in for another kiss and- suddenly the door was swinging open, and Enjolras was all business again. It was the man from the elevator._ _

__“Are you just about done?” he asked, his tone not leaving much room for argument. Grantaire was silent._ _

__“Just one more question, I think.” Enjolras flashed that Hollywood smile again, and the man gave a sigh and whipped out his phone to check the time again._ _

__“Manager.” Enjolras mouthed, pulling a face that made Grantaire let out a small burst of stifled laughter. Luckily, the manager didn’t seem to notice, simply shaking his head and closing the door again, muttering to himself._ _

__“He seems nice.” Grantaire smirked._ _

__“Hey, its hard work managing someone as busy and important as me.” Enjolras ran a hand through his hair, puffing his chest out proudly. “Speaking of… I just wanted to make sure you were okay after… yesterday.”_ _

__“Yesterday?” Grantaire was legitimately baffled._ _

__“The… kissing.” Enjolras ran a hand through his hair. “It was so out of character, I swear, I don’t know why I did it, and I just didn’t want… I didn’t want you to think that that’s something I go around doing.”_ _

__“Oh.” Grantaire tried to stifle his surprise. “Well… yeah, no I’m good. Great actually, fantastic. It was… good. Amazing, really.”_ _

__“You’re not just saying that?” Enjolras still looked slightly wrong-footed._ _

__“Promise, totally fine.” He meant it. “We should do it again sometime.”_ _

__Enjolras raised an eyebrow at him, and Grantaire bit back the urge to stick his foot in his mouth any further._ _

__“I guess that leads me to my next question, then.” Enjolras seemed to have finally relaxed._ _

__“Which is?”_ _

__“Is there any chance that you’re free tonight?”_ _

__“Tonight?” Grantaire was caught off guard for a moment, heart swelling._ _

__“If not it’s fine!” Enjolras said hurriedly. “It’s my fault for making you come all the way down here while everyone was-“_ _

__“I’d love to.” Grantaire was beaming. “We could go to dinner or… oh fuck.”_ _

__“What?”_ _

__“This is so stupid, I just remembered, I have my sisters birthday party tonight.”_ _

__“Okay?” Enjolras didn’t seem concerned._ _

__“I can’t get out of it, I missed the last one for… anyway, point is, I can’t.” Grantaire sighed. “Shit.”_ _

__“Well what if…”_ _

__“What?”_ _

__“What if I came as your date?”_ _

__“To… to the party?” Grantaire’s throat felt tight._ _

__“Well why not?” Enjolras shrugged, as if taking a break from his packed celebrity schedule to go to random bookstore owners birthday parties was something he did all the time._ _

__“Its not… anything fancy.” Grantaire felt weirdly self-conscious all of a sudden._ _

__“So?”_ _

__“And my friends are-“_ _

__“I’m not going for your friends, Grantaire.” Enjolras was smiling again. “And I bet I’ll love them.”_ _

__“Oh…” Grantaire gave back a small smile of his own, painfully aware of how hot his face felt. “Okay then.”_ _

__“So it’s a yes?”_ _

__“Yes.” he gave a small nod, and Enjolras was beaming. “I will warn you though, my friend Marius is making the birthday cake last I checked. How resistant are you to  
food poisoning?”_ _

__Enjolras let out another one of his real laughs, the kind that made Grantaire want to kiss him all over again. He briefly wondered if there was some sort of formula he could access, something that would make Enjolras look at him like that always._ _

__“Enjolras?” The door swung open again, the manager looking even more harried. “We have to keep things moving.”_ _

__“Alright, alright.” The blond man put his hands up in a placating gesture._ _

__“Did you get what you needed?” Grantaire felt both men’s eyes shift to him._ _

__“Yep. Absolutely.” he nodded in a way he hoped looked self-assured. Enjolras smirked, then turned to Grantaire again, extending his hand._ _

__“It was nice to meet you.” His hand was soft and warm in Grantaire’s as they shook. “Try not to write anything too scathing.”_ _

__“I’ll do my best.” Grantaire was trying very hard not to start grinning like an idiot. Enjolras’ manager sighed pointedly._ _

__“Pick you up at six?” Enjolras asked, softly enough that only Grantaire could hear. He gave another nod, feeling suddenly lightheaded, then turned to leave, throwing one last glance over his shoulder._ _

__The hallway was still full of noise and people and half-cold to-go cups full of coffee, but Grantaire couldn’t bring himself to care as he made his way back to the elevator, feeling like he was floating. He also felt as though he’d just climbed some sort of mountain, his heart thrumming in his chest as he made his way back through the lobby and into the street._ _

__The house was empty when he got home, Bahorel no doubt doing something entirely not useful elsewhere, and so Grantaire was left with his own thoughts for a while as he paced back and forth, trying to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He had almost clamed down when he glanced at his cell phone, stomach lurching as he realized he only had the better part of an hour to get ready. He dialed Marius’ number and held the phone to his ear, leaning against the doorway in the living room._ _

__“Hello? Grantaire?” he sounded frazzled, just like always._ _

__“Hello.” Grantaire chuckled slightly. “Bad moment?”_ _

__“What? Oh no, no, everything’s going perfectly!” There was a loud crash from the other end of the line, and Grantaire winced. “I’m just… cooking.”_ _

__“Oh no.” Grantaire groaned. “Is it too late to say I can’t come?”_ _

__“It absolutely is, Musichetta might kill you.”_ _

__“Fair point.” Grantaire sighed good-naturedly. “But anyway, I called because I have news.”_ _

__“Oh?” Marius was doing his best to sound interested, despite the background chaos filtering in behind him._ _

__“I’m bringing someone.” Grantaire said brightly. For a moment, there was silence from Marius’ end. The he started laughing._ _

__“You’re kidding!” he cried. “That’s great! Who is he? She?”_ _

__“ _He _is maybe the nicest guy I’ve ever brought over.” Grantaire smiled. “Is there going to be room?”___ _

____“Uhh…” Marius trailed off for a moment, more clattering accompanying him. “Let me ask Cosette.”_ _ _ _

____Then there was the sound of yelling, and more moving around, and a much softer voice that Grantaire would recognize anywhere. He smiled slightly as he listened to the two of them, just as in love now as they’d been all those years ago when they’d met. He wondered if it was weird that those two were on of the only constants in his life._ _ _ _

____“Okay, Cosette says she’d love to meet him.” Marius sounded pleased._ _ _ _

____“Great. I’ll see you in…” he took the phone away from his face. “Shit, an hour then?”_ _ _ _

____“Yep, see you then!” And then there was more thunderous noise and the line went quiet._ _ _ _

____Grantaire chuckled to himself as he shoved his phone back into his pocket and jogged up the stairs, head already racing with thoughts of how the hell he was going to dress for this thing. He hoped Enjolras changed too, at risk of looking like a weirdo. Though maybe that ship had sailed._ _ _ _

____His closet yielded almost nothing good, and he cycled through about nine different shirts until he finally settled. He looked at himself in the mirror, turning this way and that to make sure it was flattering from every angle._ _ _ _

____“Keep it simple, R.” he muttered out loud as he tugged on the hem of the navy blue collared shirt to straighten it. It was one of the only outfits he had that didn’t look like it was drowning him, as well as being a rather nice color, if he did say so himself. He checked the time on his phone again, and took a deep breath. Enjolras would be at his door any minute. He fussed with his hair in the mirror for a one more moment, then headed downstairs, trying to dispel some of the shaking in his hands._ _ _ _

____The sound of the doorbell rang shrilly through the house, nearly making him jump, and he stood in the hallway a moment, not wanting it to seem like he’d been waiting right by the door. He put on a smile he hoped looked natural, then swung it open, revealing a likewise smiling Enjolras._ _ _ _

____“Evening.” He looked almost infuriatingly cool, leaning up against the wall outside the door as if he hadn’t a care in the world. To Grantaire’s relief, he had changed,  
opting for a wild floral button down and a pair of deep red corduroy pants._ _ _ _

____“Evening yourself.” he managed to reply, thankfully not sounding as out of breath as he felt._ _ _ _

____“You look great.”_ _ _ _

____“Oh.” He let out a laugh that was more like a wheeze. The air felt so charged it was almost electric. “Thanks.”_ _ _ _

____“You chariot awaits, then?” Enjolras gave one of his trademark soul-deep smiles, and then Grantaire was shutting his front door and trailing behind him like a man in a trance._ _ _ _

____It was just this side of too cold as they made their way down the sidewalk, passing a few houses before coming to a stop in front of a small blue Volkswagen. Enjolras grabbed the passenger door and pulled it open, giving a small flourish to gesture Grantaire inside._ _ _ _

____“This… this is your car?” he asked before he could stop himself._ _ _ _

____“What were you expecting, a Ferrari?” Enjolras laughed._ _ _ _

____“Kind of.” Grantaire smirked, feeling his face heat up despite himself._ _ _ _

____“Well, you’re stuck with James, unfortunately.” he rolled his eyes as Grantaire clambered in, stopping him before he could close the door._ _ _ _

____“Wait.” Grantaire looked at him, disbelieving. “Your cars name is James?”_ _ _ _

____“Yep.” Enjolras was still smirking as he looked at him over the car door._ _ _ _

____“Is this another literary thing?” Grantaire asked. Enjolras said nothing. “Like James as in… shit, uh, Gatsby?”_ _ _ _

____“That’s Jay, actually.” He was enjoying this. “And it’s James as in Bond.”_ _ _ _

____“Your car… _this _car is named James Bond?” he asked incredulously, gesturing at the vehicle, which admittedly did not conjure up any feeling of badassery. Enjolras shrugged, still smiling in that all-knowing way of his.___ _ _ _

______“I like spy movies.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Grantaire let out a small, very embarrassing laugh as Enjolras made his way back around to the drivers seat, sliding in and pulling a pair of very weathered looking keys out of his pocket. He muttered to himself as the car struggled slightly to turn over, then looked to Grantaire triumphantly._ _ _ _ _ _

______“So.” He let out a happy sigh. “Where are we headed?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh! Duh.” Grantaire pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched in Marius’ address, smiling as the tony robotic voice announced that they needed to turn right at the end of the street. “Its not far, Marius’ house.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Shame.” he gave Grantaire a smile he didn’t know quite what to do with, so he settled for shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning back in his seat, feeling slightly faint. The silence was once again palpable._ _ _ _ _ _

______“This thing play music?” he asked, looking at the dashboard dubiously. It looked like it had been built approximately eight years before the invention of Bluetooth._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Sure does.” Enjolras said proudly, reaching over to wrestle the glove compartment open and revealing a wildly disorganized mess of CD’s. Grantaire laughed, then began shuffling through._ _ _ _ _ _

______“This has to be one of the weirdest collections I’ve ever seen.” he mused as he shuffled through them all, revealing everything from classical to 90’s grunge rock._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I can never decide.” Enjolras replied, flitting his gaze over and smiling a the one in Grantaire’s hand. “That one’s good.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Springsteen?” Grantaire asked, holding the disc up and squinting in the dimming light._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Absolutely Springsteen.” Enjolras tapped his fingers on the steering wheel excitedly, and for the first time it occurred to Grantaire that he might be nervous too._ _ _ _ _ _

______It took Grantaire a moment to find the slot for the CD, and another to get it in, but after a moment of scratching noises the car was filled with the noise of guitars and drums and what could’ve been a saxophone. He actually may have heard this song, it sounded familiar. Enjolras nodded his head along as they moved swiftly through the winding French streets, houses going past them painted every different shade of pastel. Grantaire watched the minutes tick down on the Google maps, and wished he could think of something to say. He had never quite mastered the art of “comfortable silence.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“So how do you know these people?” Enjolras asked, as if reading his mind._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh.” Grantaire smiled fondly, for no reason other than he felt like he couldn’t not. “Well, Musichetta is my sister, who’s…. delightful in her own, strange way.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m familiar.” Enjolras nodded sagely, and Grantaire squashed down the urge to ask if the other man had any siblings._ _ _ _ _ _

______“And then there’s Marius and Cosette, who’re my high school best friend and ex-girlfriend who just happened to get married.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ouch.” the other man winced appreciatively, shaking his head._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh no, its not like that.” Grantaire said hurriedly, panic clawing at his chest for a moment. “Million years ago now. And then there’s Joly, who also from high school.  
So not a bad group really.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Enjolras stared impassively through the windshield for another moment, then broke into a grin._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What?” Grantaire asked, slightly nervous._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Just can’t believe you had a girlfriend.” Enjolras was totally making fun of him now, grinning full-out in a way that made Grantaire’s stomach do somersaults._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Shut up.” He smacked him on the arm good-naturedly. “I’ll have you know I’ve had many girlfriends.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Many?” Enjolras cried, and Grantaire pouted in response._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well… three.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ah see, that sounds more likely.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Shut up.” Grantaire said again, crossing his arms as if that would keep his heart from beating out of his chest. “I have game, Hollywood.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I know you do.” Enjolras reached over again, but this time it was only to lay a hand on Grantaire’s knee, his skin seeming to burn through the fabric of his jeans. He was seriously starting to get whiplash, he thought, The way Enjolras could go from horrible and teasing to achingly sincere in the span of a few moments was entirely unfair._ _ _ _ _ _

______Grantaire’s phone buzzed in his hand, snapping him back to the present, and he felt a small pang in his chest as Marius’ house came into view._ _ _ _ _ _

______“This one up here.” He pointed through the passenger window, then fussed with his shirt as Enjolras pulled up to the curb. His hands were still shaking, so much so that it took him a moment to realize that the other man hadn’t moved yet._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey.” Enjolras caught him by the wrist, his long, soft fingers encircling Grantaire’s calloused ones. “I meant what I said, you look… perfect.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh.” Grantaire’s eyes shot to his shoes out of habit, his hand running along the back of his neck. “Thank you.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Can I prove it to you?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“What?” Grantaire looked back up, and Enjolras was much closer than he’d been before, a silhouette against a street that had now gone completely dark.  
He leaned in slowly, his hand tracing a path along Grantaire’s collarbone and then resting on his jaw, waiting. His eyes looked a much deeper blue this close up, and Grantaire was so lost in them that it took him a moment to realize what he was waiting for._ _ _ _ _ _

______As soon as his incredibly addled brain caught up, he surged forward and closed the distancing, crashing his lips to Enjolras’ as he leaned over the center console. Enjolras sighed into his mouth, bringing both of his hands to rest on the back of Grantaire’s neck and running his hands through the dark curls there.  
Springsteen was still crooning through the speaker, something or other about dancing, and Grantaire felt as though he was floating, out of his body and through the roof of the car and into the clear Parisian sky. He could feel Enjolras’ heart racing against his hand where he had lain it against his neck, and the hummingbird rhythm it stuttered out helped to ground him._ _ _ _ _ _

______He let the kiss go on for one more searing moment, trying to commit every aspect to memory, before he pulled back with a sigh. Enjolras looked as if he had just gone through every human emotion simultaneously, and come out better for it. They were both grinning._ _ _ _ _ _

______“So.” Enjolras cleared his throat and laughed, beautiful and disheveled and everything Grantaire had ever wanted. “Lets go in, shall we?”_ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it! Next chapter will be up soon, as always please please leave kudos and comments! I'm the opposite of a succulent, I thrive on interaction.  
> \- Jo


	3. Brownie Points

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So I am in fact still alive, and still deeply invested in this story, but a combination of writers block and a power outage teamed up to make this chapter ridiculously hard to publish this week! But y'know, better late than never.
> 
> Special thanks this week goes out to L as always, as well as to Bruce Springsteen, because he was all I listened to while writing this chapter. Hold onto your teeth because this one gets obnoxiously sweet.  
> \- Jo

Grantaire’s legs felt slightly unbalanced as they made their way up the steps to Marius’ front door, Enjolras’ hand still fever warm in his. The night was still freezing, but he could barely feel it through his coat, his body seeming to warm from the inside as his heart raced. He squeezed Enjolras’ fingers lightly as he rang the doorbell.

“Hey guys!” Marius was smiling as he opened the door, despite how smoky it looked inside the house.

“Everything okay?” Grantaire asked.

“Absolutely brilliant.” Marius ran a hand through his hair, which was already sticking up at odd ends. “Come on in though, please, its freezing out!”

Enjolras shot Grantaire a small smile as they crossed the threshold, both of them silently thankful that Marius was apparently too harried to realized he was in the presence of celebrity. Grantaire led him through the tiny front entryway and into the living room, the smoke getting worse the further they went.

“Grantaire? Is that you?” a soft, feminine voice floated through the haze, and Grantaire’s face lit up as Cosette appeared from the kitchen, waving a dishtowel around her face.

“Hey!” he was forced to finally let go of Enjolras’ hand as he swept her into a hug, laughing as they both began to cough.

“I’m so sorry about all this.” Cosette gestured at the craziness evident in the living room, having still not looked at Enjolras yet. “He really wanted to cook, he had everything planned, I couldn’t say no to him.”

“You never can.” Grantaire smiled. Cosette rolled her eyes in return, but looked so achingly fond that it didn’t quite have the effect she wanted. “Can I ask what the hell he’s making?”

“Better not.” Cosette gave him a good-natured pat on the arm, then finally turned to the man standing next to him.

“You must be Grantaire’s date!” she said brightly, extending her hand to shake.

“That’s me.” Enjolras looked thrilled as he shook it, his eyes darting around slightly like a house almost on fire was one of the most exciting things he’d ever seen.

“You know has anyone ever told you that you’re the spitting image of…”

“Cosette, this is Enjolras.” Grantaire interrupted, trying to save her the embarrassment. She stilled for a moment, then released his hand, smiling. 

“Cosette.” she replied, the picture of cool. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“You as well.” Enjolras looked almost more nervous now, as if he wasn’t quite used to conversing like this. Grantaire was just about to say something when the door to the kitchen flew open, pouring even more smoke into the room.

“I fixed it!” Marius cried, throwing his arms up in the air triumphantly, the women’s apron he was wearing covered in what Grantaire hoped was mashed potatoes.

“Oh thank goodness.” Cosette sighed. “Cake came out relatively unsinged?”

“Actually, about that…” Marius took off his apron and balled it up into his hand, looking at them all resolutely. “Who has Doordash?”

Cosette chuckled softly and pulled out her phone, plugging in the name of a nearby bakery. Marius finally seemed to notice there were other people in the room. He made his way over to Enjolras, dropping the apron on the coffee table in the center of the room.

“Hi!” he said, extending a hand. “I’m…” He stopped, pulled his hand back, then extended it again, brow furrowed. “Marius.”

“Enjolras.” he shook his hand, thankfully ignoring the fact that Marius looked like he’d just discovered how to function as a person. Cosette rolled her eyes and stepped in between them, flashing her phone at her husband.

“This look alright?”

“Hmm?” Marius finally tore his eyes away. “Oh yeah, looks great, thanks love.” He smiled warmly at her, then turned back to Enjolras, no doubt to say something embarrassing. Thankfully, the doorbell rang again, momentarily distracting them all.

“I’ll get it.” Cosette volunteered, giving Marius a small touch on the arm. “Honey, maybe you should…” she threw a glance in the direction of the kitchen.

“Oh!” Marius laughed. “No, you’re right, I’m not totally sure the oven fire is out.”

Enjolras threw Grantaire a worried glance as Marius disappeared back into the kitchen, looking so earnest that Grantaire couldn’t help but laugh a little bit.

“He’ll be fine.” he mouthed. Enjolras moved to reply, then promptly jumped almost out of his skin as a high pitched voice rang through the living room.

“Grantaire!” squealed the owner of the voice, who was a very short, very brightly dressed girl carrying a giant handbag.

“Hey!” Grantaire managed to throw his arms open just in time to catch her as she threw herself into his arms, wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug.

“I miss you!” she cried indignantly as Grantaire lowered her back to the floor, straightening the front of his shirt. 

“I miss you too.”

“You never visit anymore, you’re always so terribly busy…”

“Yes, M, with my job.” Grantaire smiled good naturedly.

“Not an excuse.” she rolled her eyes, despite how much she was still beaming. “How many travel books can one street really… oh holy fuck.”

Enjolras shifted nervously under her gaze, waving slightly by way of greeting. Somehow, despite the fact that she couldn’t have stood past his shoulder, he still felt weirdly intimidated. Grantaire chuckled and made his way over to touch Enjolras’ shoulder, gesturing between them.

“Enjolras, this is Musichetta, my sister.” Enjolras stuck out his hand, but she didn’t even seem to notice.

“Musichetta, this is…”

“Yeah…” she sighed, almost dreamily. “Look I’m… I want to be cool so much in this moment, but it’s just not going to happen.”

“That’s okay.” Enjolras gave a small smile and retracted his hand. “You can’t possibly do any worse than Marius.” 

“Oh.” Musichetta let out a slightly manic laugh. “Well I just… I want you to know that I am such a big fan, always have been, and I think we could be really good friends.”

“I…” Enjolras took a moment, then smiled back at her. “I think so too.”

“Yay!” she clapped her hands together excitedly, then swept Enjolras into a hug before Grantaire could stop her.

“Am I the last one here again?” a voice called from the hallway. Grantaire left Enjolras to his struggles for a moment as someone else appeared in the living room, this man looking as though he was decidedly in more of a hurry.

“Hey, Joly.” Grantaire gave him a one-armed hug, laughing as the other man sighed.

“Every damn time.” he shook his head. “Getting a cab anywhere around here is a nightmare.”

“Tell me about it.” Grantaire watched with relief as his sister finally released Enjolras from her vice grip. “Oh, by the way, this is Enjolras, my date!”

“Pleasure.” Joly stuck out his hand, and Enjolras looked grateful no one else seemed to want to hug him. “Where’s Marius?”

“Setting Cosette’s beautifully decorated kitchen on fire.” Grantaire jerked his thumb in the direction of the door.

“Ah.” Joly smirked. “Suppose I’d better go check on him.”

“Enter at your own risk.”

Joly gave a small laugh that immediately descended into a coughing fit as he opened the kitchen door, but went in nonetheless, Marius yelling something about the oven. Enjolras shot a look at Grantaire.

“Does he not…”

“I don’t think Joly’s seen a movie since he was about twelve.” Musichetta rolled her eyes.

“Oh wow.” Enjolras looked genuinely impressed. “Good for him.”

“If you like being a snob.” Musichetta replied, finally deciding that it was time to stop jumping around and sinking into one of the couches.

“Hey, cut it out, you love him.” Grantaire sat on the loveseat opposite her, motioning for Enjolras to join him.

“I’d love him more if he ever returned my calls.”

Enjolras eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead, seemingly feeling that this was an exciting development. Grantaire waved Musichetta’s comment aside, turning to Enjolras with a put-upon sigh.

“Musichetta has been trying to get Joly to go out with her for what, years?” he turned back to her and she nodded dramatically, leaning into the cushions and  
spreading her arms out. “Some sort of sick social experiment, I think.”

“So you don’t… like him?” Enjolras looked worried.

“She does.” Grantaire smirked, and Musichetta raised a pillow threateningly.

“I just think he could stand to get out more.” she sighed. “And at this point it’s a pride thing really, one can only take rejection for so long.”

“Hey guys?” Marius cut them off, head sticking out of the doorway. “Food’s going to be here any minute.”

“Ooo yes!” Grantaire leapt up, grabbing Enjolras’ hand to pull him with him. He followed him into the dining room, grinning the entire time, and settled into a chair at his left as they all sat down.

“Someone order birthday dinner?” Cosette kicked the door open with her toe and made her way in, arms laden with Chinese food. Musichetta grinned.

One of the things that Grantaire had noticed about Enjolras, seemingly all at once, was that he was wildly different with him than he was anyone else. He was used to Enjolras the showman, the actor, who had swept him off his feet like it barely took any effort. But now, around Grantaire’s friends, he seemed content to simply sit back and watch, looking content and laughing at jokes but seeming almost… shy. Like he didn’t know quite what to do with himself. Grantaire supposed it was because this was generally not how he spent his evenings.

He reached over and gave his hand that wasn’t holding chopsticks a small squeeze under the table, and Enjolras beamed. He looked the happiest Grantaire had seen him yet, if slightly unsure of himself.

“So what do you think?” Grantaire asked under his breath as Musichetta entertained everyone with the wild story of her latest blind date.

“About what?” Enjolras turned to look at him, slightly flushed with all the excitement (and the wine, Grantaire reckoned). One of his curls had fallen across his forehead, and Grantaire swept it aside almost unthinkingly, not missing the way it made him shiver.

“My crazy friends.” Grantaire smirked. “My sister.”

“I told you I was going to love them.” 

“Hey lovebirds!” Joly snapped from across the table, undoubtedly the drunkest of all of them. “Take it outside if you’re going to talk about us.”

“Sorry.” Enjolras blushed slightly as Grantaire blew Joly a kiss.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just stressed out about work.” Marius rolled his eyes.

“Like always.” Musichetta flicked a grain of rice across the table, where it landed on the front of Joly’s shirt. He huffed, wiping himself down as best he could with how clumsy his movements had gotten.

“What do you do?” Enjolras asked, ignoring the slight.

“Well…” Joly sat back in his chair, grinning. “I suppose you could say I’m in the business of civil service.”

“Oh bullshit!” Musichetta cried, grabbing the bottle from the center of the table and taking a drink directly from it. Cosette winced. “Don’t let him fool you,  
Enjolras, what he means is he’s a realtor.”

“Do you like it?” Enjolras did his best to dodge Musichetta’s elbow as she put the drink back.

“He hates it.” Cosette cut in. “He sells overpriced houses to crazy rich people.”

“Hey, liking something and being good at it are two very different things.” Joly took another drink. “And I’m very good at it.”

“Oh really?” Musichetta smirked. “How’s that waterfront property, J? Sell that yet?”

“Silence.” Joly leaned forward and pointed an accusatory finger across the table, making Musichetta giggle. Enjolras was laughing too, trying to stifle himself as Joly turned to look at him instead. “So, Enjolras, what do you do?”

Silence fell over the table as everyone but Enjolras and Joly tried to keep a straight face, Marius turning bright red with the effort. Musichetta looked like she was about to watch the most entertaining movie of her life. Enjolras thought for a moment, then smiled.

“I’m an actor.” he replied. Marius ducked under the table, shoulders quaking. Cosette rolled her eyes.

“Oh, great.” Joly smiled good-naturedly, his eyes still slightly glazed-over. “Been in anything I might have seen?”

“Oh, probably not, no.”

“How much did you make in your last movie?”

“Joly, I don’t think…” Cosette started in, ignoring her husband who was still in hysterics.

“I’m just asking!” he said, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. “I need to know if he can support Grantaire.”

At that, Grantaire, letting out a hideously undignified laugh that was thankfully immediately covered by Musichetta’s. Enjolras was still trying to be serious, but far too tipsy to pull it off.

“How much?” Joly asked again. Enjolras sighed.

“Five million dollars.”

“Oh.” The look of surprise on Joly’s face was priceless. “Well that’s… that’s not too bad, is it?”

Marius was genuinely wheezing, still doing his best to hold himself together, but finally broke as the table erupted into laughter, Enjolras more than anyone. Even Cosette chuckled slightly, though she was kind enough to give a long-suffering look to Joly, who looked so desperately confused that Grantaire almost felt bad for him. Almost. Cosette sighed as she rose from the table, talking above the noise.

“Alright.” she said. “Who wants dessert?”

A raucous cheer erupted from the table, even Enjolras, and she disappeared into the kitchen gratefully, leaving Joly to stew in the drunken mess he’d created for himself. Enjolras put his head in his hands in mock shame, and Grantaire smiled at him hopelessly.

“Still think you like my friends?” he asked, loud enough for the whole table to hear.

“Absolutely.” Enjolras shot a look at Musichetta, who grinned. Cosette had re-appeared with a plate full of brownies.

“Small mishap with the cake, so we have these instead!” she said, setting them on the table. 

“Sorry.” Marius sighed. “I tried Musichetta, seriously I did.”

“I know love.” Musichetta replied with a laugh, grabbing one off the plate along with everyone else. “I think it’s very sweet.”

Cosette smiled as she sat back down and grabbed her own piece of dessert, leaving one single, solitary brownie left on the plate. Joly and Marius both reached at the same time, then stared at each other.

“You already have one.” Marius pointed out.

“Could say the same to you!” Joly reached for it again before being easily intercepted by Musichetta.

“Tell you what.” she started. Grantaire and Enjolras shared an amused glance, Enjolras still looking as though this was perhaps the best night he’d ever had. “I think this brownie should go to someone who actually deserves it.”

“What do you mean?” Joly asked, sensing a challenge.

“Exactly that.” Musichetta smiled. “Whoever can prove they deserve it the most shall have it.”

A chorus of interested noise rose up around the table as everyone sat up straighter, Joly clearing his throat dramatically.

“Okay, fine, time for my sob story.” he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. 

“Who says you get to go first?” Musichetta interjected.

“I do.” He gave a superior look, then rolled his eyes as she flipped him off. “Let’s see… I triple majored in college, so I have three degrees I don’t use, I work day after day in a job I hate, and despite my best efforts, I seem destined to remain forever alone.” He sat back once more, looking entirely too self-satisfied, and silence reigned over the table for a moment.

“Seriously?” Musichetta asked. “That’s the best you got?”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that’s an extremely tragic story by Oxford standards!” he snapped back.

“Oh fucks sake, here we go again with the ‘I went to Oxford’ speech.” Grantaire groaned, and Enjolras stifled a laugh expertly with his hand.

“I want to go next!” Musichetta raised her hand as if they were in a classroom, and everyone turned to look at her expectantly.

“Alright, alright.” she smoothed the front of her dress and sat up straighter. “I have, I can safely say, the worst taste in men of anyone I’ve ever known.”

“Same could be said for Enjolras.” Cosette cut in, smirking at Grantaire, who looked sufficiently scandalized. Enjolras gave his hand another squeeze under the table.

“I’m also destined to remain forever alone,” Musichetta continued. “but the difference is that every old woman I meet on the street simply can’t wait to tell me how  
tragic that is, and if my mother brings up my biological clock again I am simply going to scream.”

“Alright, alright, fair enough, who’s next?” Joly glanced around, then turned to the man at his side. “Marius?”

“Oh, uh…” he looked off into the distance for a moment, then at his wife. “I… I don’t really have anything, sorry guys.”

“Boo!” Musichetta threw a balled up napkin at him, yelling over the various groans coming from around the table. “You and your perfect marriage can fuck off.”

“I’m sorry!” he insisted again, not seeming to notice as Cosette slipped her hand into Marius’. 

“Cosette?” Joly asked. “I think you’re next.”

“I…” she smiled softly. “I also don’t really have anything either.”

“No way!” Joly took another sip of the wine he was holding. “Come on, there has to be something.”

“Well…” Cosette struggled for a moment. “We want to have a baby.”

Silence rang out over the table once again, everyone processing what they had just heard. Then Joly reached around Cosette, positively beaming as he clapped Marius on the back.

“Congratulations!” he cried, everyone else quickly joining in.

“Seriously, guys, that’s amazing.” Grantaire was smiling too, absentmindedly threading his fingers through Enjolras’. Cosette smiled back, but it was twinged with sadness.

“The doctors are saying it could be… difficult.” she sighed. “They don’t even know if we can have kids.”

“Oh…” Even Joly seemed sobered by the news, letting his eyes drift to the tabletop. Marius slipped his hand into Cosette’s, giving her a soft, encouraging smile, and she quickly moved a hand to swipe at her eyes. No one said anything for a moment.

“It’s alright though.” Cosette broke the silence. “We’re very fortunate in other ways, just… not this.”  
Marius was looking anywhere but at peoples eyes, his thumb tracing a pattern against the back of Cosette’s hand. Enjolras looked stunned, all of the comfort he’d had a moment ago gone from his posture. Marius cleared his throat and Cosette snapped back to herself, wiping her eyes again.

“At least we’re better off then Grantaire, though.” She gave him a small smirk, and everyone in the room visibly deflated as the Cosette they knew and loved came back.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!” Grantaire put a hand to his chest, the picture of scandal, and Enjolras snickered.

“I’m just saying!” she pressed on. “Terrible employment, once was handsome but now looks a bit like an aging Bond man…”

“Fresh off a breakup!” Musichetta chimed in.

“Fresh off the whiskey.” Joly added, probably a bit too drunk to realize what he was saying. Grantaire’s felt his cheeks flush as he looked pointedly away from Enjolras.

“And despite the fact that you brought a lovely date, he’ll most definitely never be speaking to you again after he finds out what your nickname in high school was.” Cosette finished, saving the conversation once again. Enjolras grinned.

“What was it?” he asked innocently. Grantaire buried his head in his hands.

“Fuck off.”

“I just want to know!”

“Bruiser!” Musichetta cried, leaning back in her chair with a cackle.

“What?” Enjolras was laughing too. “Can I ask why?”

“No you fucking can’t.” Grantaire snapped, staring daggers at his sister.

“You see, Grantaire was quite the ladies man.” Joly took another swig of his drink and settled in, smirking maliciously.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Grantaire growled.

“And everyone and their mother thought he was going to get lucky with his date the night of the homecoming dance.” Cosette supplied.

“You weren’t even there!” Grantaire was beet red.

“Unfortunately his date had other plans, but he still wanted to convince us.” Joly was almost wheezing. “So he took… he took-“

“He put the vacuum hose on the side of his neck to make it look like a hickey!” Musichetta crowed, expertly dodging the kick Grantaire aimed at her shins under the  
table. Enjolras’ eyes went wide.

“Grantaire you didn’t.” he turned to his date, who had his face pressed down on the table.

“He did!” Marius was also beet red, but from laughing rather than embarrassment. His hand still had Cosette’s in a vice grip, like he had no intentions of ever letting go.

“Alright that’s it.” Grantaire rose from his chair slightly to reach across Enjolras, swiping at his sisters hand. “Give me the fucking brownie, I deserve it.”

“Hey, hey, woah!” Musichetta grabbed his hand, stilling it. “Enjolras hasn’t even gone yet.”

“You’re serious?” Joly seemed stunned. “You think he deserves the brownie?” 

“Well I mean a shot at it, at least.” She looked expectantly at Enjolras, who shifted slightly uncomfortably.

“I really don’t have to…” he started, before Cosette waved a hand dismissively.

“Everyone else got to go.” she pointed out. “And besides, you can’t possibly beat me, but you may as well try.”

“It’ll be weird if you don’t.” Marius supplied, pouring himself another glass he most certainly did not need. Cosette slyly pulled the bottle across the table from him  
when he was finished, and he didn’t seem to notice.

“Right, well…” Enjolras seemed uncertain where to begin. “I’ve been acting since I was about fifteen, which means I’ve been hungry for about twelve years, as well as chronically dehydrated.”

“You and Grantaire should get on great.” Musichetta kicked her brother lightly under the table, getting a vicious eye roll in return. Enjolras laughed.

“Not to mention the fact that I’m constantly worried that someone is going to catch on to the fact that I can’t actually act, and then that’ll be it for me.” He leaned back in his chair. “And on top of it all, you guys absolutely have this thing with me and Grantaire all wrong.”

“How so?” Musichetta asked.

“He’s too good for me.” Enjolras said simply, with a shrug of his shoulders. “And in a few weeks I’ll have to leave for filming again, and he’ll realize that he is, and that being with an actor is nothing like the tabloids make it out to be, and I won’t even be able to argue because I’ll be stuck across the world filming this new shit movie I’m in.”

Grantaire had gone almost painfully still. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, and part of him wanted to dive underneath the table. There was no way any of that could be true. There was no way Enjolras genuinely thought that he wasn’t good enough to be with him. His heart was jack-rabbiting in his ears again, Enjolras’ hand locked in his so tight he could feel all of the fragile bones within. Then Joly spoke, and the moment was over as quickly as it had begun.

“Aren’t they all a bit shit?” he asked, all seriousness, and Enjolras looked affronted for a moment before he burst out laughing, grabbing his glass and polishing it off. 

“Absolutely.” he smiled. For a moment no one else spoke, and then Grantaire reached for Musichetta, desperate to shake the unexplainable lovestruck feeling that was currently strangling him.

“More like absolutely pathetic attempt to hog the brownie.” he scoffed, finally managing to grab it and take a giant, triumphant bite.

“Hey!” Musichetta cried. “No one said that you won!”

“After that horrendous high school story I think victory goes to me by a landslide.” Grantaire retorted. Enjolras chuckled, face lighting up as Grantaire broke the brownie apart and handed him half. He felt a bit like he was floating, cheeks flushed under the bright lights of the dining room.

“Blatant favoritism.” Cosette rolled her eyes.

“Look at you guys, how could he not be my favorite?”

Enjolras coughed slightly, also becoming flushed in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol, and for a moment Grantaire worried that he’d somehow gone too far. He looked at him anxiously for a second, and then Enjolras gave him a small smile, meant for only him, and knocked their legs together gently under the table. Grantaire’s chest felt so warm he thought he might melt.

By the time plates had been cleared away, dinner had been packed up, and several more terrifying stories about Grantaire had been traded, it was almost ten at night, and Marius was slumping over onto Cosette’s arm as they both sat on the couch, coffee in hand. She shifted slightly to accommodate him, and Grantaire smiled. The better part of the wine had left Enjolras now, but he looked content as ever. 

“Alright guys.” Grantaire sighed and rose to his feet as Marius yawned for the third time in as many minutes. “I think we should get going.”

“So soon?” Musichetta asked, despite the fact that she too was dozing off, sprawled across one of the armchairs.

“Yes, it would seem some people aren’t handling their drinks well.” Grantaire gave a pointed look at Marius, whose eyes were indeed closed. Cosette smiled.

“Well thanks for coming.” she extended her hand, not making any move to get up thank to her lap full of husband. “It was lovely to meet you, Enjolras.”

“You too.” Enjolras shook her hand, then shot a look at Marius, lowering his voice to a whisper. “And Marius.”

“Still can’t believe nobody told me that you’re a fucking movie star.” Joly groaned.

“It’s totally fine.” Enjolras smirked. “Humbling, really.”

“Glad to be of help I guess.” Joly stood and grabbed Grantaire’s hand, pulling him into a hug. “Good to see you.”

“You too.” Grantaire tried to ignore Enjolras’ hand as it slid into his, turning to Musichetta. “Goodnight, M.”

“Goodnight, Bruiser.” she replied, jumping up to draw him in for another very aggressive embrace. 

“Yeah, thanks for that.” he sighed, rolling his eyes as Enjolras laughed at him. He wished he could find it in himself to be even a little but mad about it. 

“Bye everybody!” Enjolras called out as they made their way back down the front hallway, hand in hand. Grantaire was almost shaking again by the time the door closed behind them, the feeling of standing so close to the other man overwhelming. 

For a moment, they were close enough that Grantaire had to tilt his head up to look Enjolras in the eyes. Then Enjolras stepped back, his smile seeming brilliant even under the dim streetlights.

“Shall we?” he gestured down the stairs towards the pavement, and Grantaire found himself grinning like an idiot as he followed him down and started for the car. He felt like a teenager again, only bolder and more sure of himself and so, so much luckier. He ran his free hand down the front of his jeans, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing.

“Hey, wait a minute, where are you going?” Enjolras pulled him back gently, stopping him in his tracks.

“The… the car?” Grantaire answered slowly, still a bit stupid with the anticipation of another Springsteen-fueled make-out session.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” The smirk he was giving was enough to make Grantaire’s knees buckle for a moment.

“I… no.” he said hurriedly. “Just cleared my schedule actually, I’m totally free.”

“Oh yeah?” Enjolras coked an eyebrow. “For how long?”

“Forever.”

Enjolras let out a real laugh then, grinning as he pulled Grantaire down the sidewalk. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted to follow someone so much in his life.

“So,” Enjolras said conversationally as they walked, as if he wasn’t actively playing tennis with Grantaire’s still beating heart. “The vacuum story?”

“Oh God.” Grantaire buried his face in Enjolras’ shoulder.

“Is that actually what happened?”

“Everyone thought I had slept with her!” Grantaire cried, perhaps a bit loud for the hour. “But I hadn’t, because she ditched me before the dance was even over!”

“She ditched you?” he seemed genuinely shocked.

“It was a very poorly executed attempt to salvage my pride.” Grantaire pressed on, laughing softly. “And unfortunately, thanks to Musichetta, a story every girl or guy I bring home gets to hear.”

“I mean… here’s to keeping you honest?” Enjolras winced, like he didn’t even believe himself.

“Just forget you even know that.” Grantaire shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the suave, charming self-image I’ve created.

Enjolras chuckled again, removing his hand from Grantaire’s. The absence was jarring for a moment, until he placed his arm gently around his shoulders, hugging him close against the cold. They walked on in silence for a moment, until Enjolras cleared his throat, running a hand absentmindedly through his hair.

“Is the…” he cleared his throat again. “Is the other stuff they said true, too?”

“What?” Grantaire thought for a moment, then felt his stomach drop, a blush rising around his ears. “I…”

“Hey, you don’t…” Enjolras stopped walking, turning to Grantaire and catching his both hands in his own. “You don’t have to tell me, I know we like, just met, I just-”

“I know.” Grantaire finally met his eyes, steeling himself. “And yeah, it’s true.”

“You really-”

“Yep.” Grantaire’s eyes went back to the ground before he could stop himself. “Proud owner of a 90-day chip.”

“Oh.” Enjolras seemed genuinely at a loss for a moment, and he scrambled to salvage whatever he could of the night, his heart racing for an entirely different reason. He knew how this part went. 

“I’m sorry.” he said softly. Miraculously, Enjolras hadn’t moved to leave yet. Quite the contrary, he replaced his arm around Grantaire’s shoulders once more, running his fingers absentmindedly over the fabric of his coat as they kept walking.

“You don’t have to be.” he said simply. “Not for that, R. Ever.”

“Right.” Grantaire still felt wrong-footed, somehow. “Not exactly a super romantic thing to find out on the first date though.”

“This is technically our second date.” Enjolras smirked.

“Is it?”

“Oh totally, I think that yesterday in your kitchen counts as the first.”

“You’re kidding.” Grantaire finally managed a small laugh. “How does that in any way qualify as a first date?”

“Because I wouldn’t have even come back to your house if I hadn’t completely fallen for you from the moment I walked in that bookshop.” Enjolras replied, leaving Grantaire completely at a loss for words once more. He settled for ducking his head even further, his face blazing warm against the chill night air.

“Shut up.” he muttered. “You did not.”

“I did!” Enjolras insisted, laughing.

“Was it the part where I spilled coffee all over you or the part where I convinced you to buy an awful travel book?” he asked. The hand on his shoulder stilled as  
Enjolras pretended to think, smirking.

“I think it was the incredibly brave act of heroism for me.” he finally said. “Watching you stop a robbery was thrilling.”

Grantaire barked out another laugh, this one perhaps the most real of the night, shaking his head. The houses they had been walking past had turned into smaller apartments now, buildings stacked so close to one another you could barely see the sky beyond them. Enjolras paused as they came upon a small, gated community garden, his hand slipping back into Grantaire’s.

“Who the hell puts a gate in front of a bunch of flowers?” he asked, sounding genuinely put out.

“The garden is for the people that live here.” Grantaire laughed. “They don’t want commoners like us trampling their plants.

“We’ll see about that.” Enjolras huffed, suddenly letting go of Grantaire and making for the gate.

“Huh?” Grantaire choked out, eyes widening as he watched his date try to scale the ivy-covered wrought iron. “Oh Jesus, Enjolras, be careful.”

“I am!” came the reply, Enjolras having almost thrown one of his legs over the top.

“You’re going to break your neck.”

“Hey, as long as my face is okay, producers don’t care.”

“I do.”

“Oh really?” he was smiling from the top of the gate now, his hair resembling a halo in the light of the street.

“I like your face the way it is.”

“That’s sweet, really.”

“Shut up.”

“Are you going to climb or not?” The challenge was evident in his voice. Grantaire stared at the gate, sizing up his chances. He gave a long, beleaguered sigh.

“Yeah, alright.”

He took a deep breath as he tried to find a foothold, his hands already slipping haphazardly down the metal bars. Enjolras was laughing again, the sound clear as a bell in the quiet of the street. Grantaire felt his stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with the climbing.

“I’ve got you, here.” Enjolras finally relented, extending a hand. Grantaire rolled his eyes, but grabbed it anyway, and would’ve been lying if he’d said his eyes hadn’t lingered on the way the muscles in Enjolras’ arm moved under his shirt as he pulled him up. He let out a small grunt as he finally managed to swing both legs over the top of the fence, thumping gracelessly onto the ground. His date was right behind him.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

“I’m beginning to think you just delight in humiliating me.” Grantaire groaned, brushing a few spare leaves off of his jacket and the front of his jeans.

“Humiliating? Never.” Enjolras picked a leaf out of the shorter mans hair. “Teasing? Maybe.”

“Well I hope you’re happy, we can now add ‘breaking and entering’ to our list of date activities.”

“Fair enough.” Enjolras had suddenly moved so they were much closer together, looking at him with piercing blue eyes. “But the night is young, we could add… other things.”

“Oh.” Grantaire uttered the word like it had been punched out of him. “We… we could, yeah.”

Enjolras moved his hand up to pick a stray leaf out of Grantaire’s hair, letting his fingers skate down his face and along his jaw. The air felt electric. His gaze never faltered as he looked deeply at Grantaire, bringing his other hand up to cup his face, drawing him in closer. The touches were feather-light, as if he was something  
special… precious even. For a moment, Enjolras looked uncertain, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Can I…”

Grantaire stood up on his toes to bridge the gap between them, pressing their lips together before he had even finished asking the question. His hands were tangled in the front of Enjolras’ jacket, pulling him as close as he could. For once, they were perfectly still. Enjolras made a pleased humming noise into his mouth, smiling against him. He pulled away for a moment, their breathing ragged in the quiet of the courtyard.

“Still think I just like embarrassing you?” Enjolras asked, smiling like he couldn’t help himself.

“Fine.” Grantaire huffed out a laugh, trying to ignore just how surreal all of this was. “Maybe you have other motives.”

He pulled Enjolras in for another kiss, this one much more chaste, both of them laughing as they pulled apart. The streetlights were dimmer here, with the only light being that cast from inside the high-up windows, bathing everything in an orange glow. Enjolras looked almost ethereal, the air in front of him fogging up as he caught his breath.

“So…” he took another deep breath. “Want to see if this garden was worth breaking into?”

“Lead the way.”

Enjolras extended his arm like some sort of disheveled Disney prince, Grantaire taking it and marveling as they fell into step like it was what they were meant for. The garden was perhaps underwhelming, but Grantaire found he was barely looking, his eyes locked on Enjolras as he rambled about anything and everything he could think of. Both of them were shivering after only fifteen minutes, Grantaire pressed as close to Enjolras as he could physically manage. He finally took a break from rambling about whatever it was he had been on about, laughing softly as he watched Grantaire curl in on himself against the cold.

“Time to call it a night?” he asked. Grantaire shook his head.

“Five more minutes.”

“Come here.” Enjolras sighed good-naturedly as he led Grantaire over to a park bench, where they could huddle together against the wind-chill.

Neither of them spoke, simply watching how the wind moved all the trees surrounding them, trying to ignore how freezing it was for the sake of a few more minutes together. Enjolras pressed a small kiss to the top of Grantaire’s head, and Grantaire leaned up to return one of his own, pressing his lips gently to Enjolras’ jaw. Most of the window lights were out now, leaving the garden almost completely dark. Grantaire took a deep breath.

“What you said at dinner…” he started, unsure of himself. “Do you… do you really think I’m going to forget you?” He felt a bit like an idiot, but he found he also didn’t really care. Enjolras’ breathing was slow and steady.

“I don’t know.” he said after a moment. “I know that I’m never going to forget you though.”

“No?”

“Nope.” Enjolras laughed quietly. “In fact, I think you might be stuck with me, R.”

Grantaire smiled up at the sky from underneath Enjolras’ arm, the familiar warm feeling that seemed to bloom in his chest whenever he was in the presence of the other man returning. This was crazy. Inconceivable, really. But in this one moment, in the dark and the cold and the piercing quiet of the tiny city garden, he felt like this might just work. He reached his gloved hand downward, lacing his fingers with Enjolras’ and squeezing gently.

“You know,” he sighed. “I think I can live with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is! As always, kudos and comments are appreciated, as well as instrumental in inspiring me to write this thing faster. Until next time!  
> \- Jo


	4. I'm Your Loser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So the writing of this chapter absolutely flew by, which is the *best* and I'm very happy about it. Prepare yourself for more angst, more terrible jokes, and also more of Enjolras wearing a leather jacket because I truly can't help myself. Shoutout to my beta L, obviously, and this weeks musical sponsor Queen, because I physically couldn't stop listening to Love of My Life while writing this chapter.
> 
> ******CW: Mentions of alcoholism and one use of a homophobic slur.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> \- Jo

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, _shit _. Bahorel?” Grantaire called, feet rattling the wall next to him as he tripped down the stairs. “Bahorel have you seen my wallet? Anywhere?”__

__“Don’t think so.” Bahorel replied, shoveling more cereal into his mouth as he leaned against the kitchen counter._ _

__“I am so fucking late.” Grantaire muttered, shuffling things around on the table and knocking several to the ground in the process. His head snapped up again for a moment, and he gave a long, bone-deep sigh. “Bahorel?”_ _

__“Yeah?”_ _

__“I swear to Christ, if we have to have the wearing pants in the kitchen conversation _one more time _-“___ _

____“You’re not supposed to be here!” Bahorel cried. “I thought I was safe!”_ _ _ _

____“I wouldn’t be here if you’d would help me find my damn wallet!”_ _ _ _

____He continued his mad dash around the kitchen, searching through all the drawers and rattling every piece of dishware they owned. To be fair, it wasn’t much. Finally, he let out a triumphant yell, reaching into one of the cabinets._ _ _ _

____“Found it.” He shoved the wallet into one of his pockets, doing a last cursory look to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything else. “Thanks, by the way.”_ _ _ _

____“No problem.” Bahorel raised his spoon in a mock salute, but Grantaire was already gone, racing through the front hallway and out the door._ _ _ _

____It had been a week since he’d last seen Enjolras, thanks to more press events, but the chill to the air had yet to dissipate, so much so that it had begun to snow slightly. He shrugged his jacket higher on his shoulders as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, punching out an ‘on my way’ text as fast as he could. The reply came almost instantly: ‘already here ;).’ Grantaire groaned._ _ _ _

____The bus ride was long and arduous, and Grantaire couldn’t help tapping his boot fervently against the floor as the vehicle meandered through the streets. He checked the time. The movie had started ten minutes ago._ _ _ _

____After what felt like forever, it stopped, and he was fairly certain he may have crushed someone underfoot in his dash to get out. The theatre was a block away, and he was breathing raggedly by the time he finally made it. Enjolras was standing outside, calm and collected as ever in his red leather jacket._ _ _ _

____“Long walk?” he laughed as Grantaire finally stopped to lean against the building, panting._ _ _ _

____“I got the bus.” he sucked in another lungful of air. “It took fucking forever, I’m sorry.”_ _ _ _

____“It’s alright.” he smiled. “Not really here for the movie anyway.”_ _ _ _

____“Oh.” Grantaire had finally risen to his full height, his breathing evening out. “Well… good.”_ _ _ _

____“Come on.” Enjolras slipped his hand into Grantaire’s as they made their way through the entrance. He had swapped his usual casually disheveled look for a hat and sunglasses today, which made him look a bit like he was part of witness protection._ _ _ _

____“So what’s with the new look?” Grantaire laughed as they stood in line for tickets. “Are you becoming a spy? You should’ve told me.”_ _ _ _

____“Hey, I’ll have you know these are very high fashion.” Enjolras said indignantly. “And the new look is because I didn’t think you’d want to share my attentions with any camera crews.”_ _ _ _

____“Ahh, smart.” Grantaire was silent a moment. “But if we _do _end up in some sort of national security situation-”___ _ _ _

______“Shut up.” Enjolras was smiling, his hand still locked with Grantaire’s._ _ _ _ _ _

______“So this movie,” Grantaire pressed on. “it’s one of yours then?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“God no.” Enjolras made a disgusted face. “The goal of the date is for you to want to stay with me.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fair enough, I’d say you’re on thin ice.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______It ended up not mattering how late they were, because the movie was terrible, and they were barely watching it anyway. Grantaire once again felt like some sort of lovestruck teenager, Enjolras’ arm around his shoulders, the both of them pressed together at the back. He whispered different things he knew about each of the actors in Grantaire’s ear, some of which definitely seemed made up, and some making Grantaire laugh so hard the people in front turned around to aggressively shush them. It was over depressingly quickly, Grantaire sighing an Enjolras pulled him out of his chair._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Come on, the night is young.” he smiled._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ooh, so you have more plans, Mr. Big Spender?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“If you’re free, that is.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I suppose I can clear my schedule.” Grantaire grinned. “All that’s waiting for me at home is an empty fridge and a naked roommate.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Why is he-”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Don’t know, but for whatever reason he refuses to wear pants around the house.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well…” Enjolras shook his head, as if trying to clear the mental image. “Point is, we have dinner reservations.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Brilliant.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Grantaire was still beaming when they got into the cab Enjolras had called, the sun having gone down while they were inside. They chatted all the way to the restaurant, Enjolras full of answers to every weird celebrity question he had. The cab driver snapped up the divider halfway through the ride, apparently sick of them after ten minutes._ _ _ _ _ _

______“So is that really true about Hugh Jackman?” Grantaire asked as they finally climbed out of the car and onto the sidewalk. “And the… the thing about stealing props?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I swear.” Enjolras replied, all seriousness. “He says it’s an Australian tradition, but personally I think he’s just sentimental.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Don’t you take things?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“From movie sets? All the time.” Enjolras smirked. “Only if it’s a good movie though.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yeah, so you know, I don’t have much.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Grantaire laughed then, taking Enjolras’ arm as they walked through the doors of the restaurant, which was from the looks of it a very fancy sushi place. Enjolras pulled out a chair for Grantaire, then sat down across from him, still chatting away._ _ _ _ _ _

______“This is so fancy.” Grantaire marveled._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well, you know, only the best.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Enjolras had taken his sunglasses off at some point in the night, and he couldn’t seem to stop looking at Grantaire as they talked. Food came and went, as did drinks, and soon it was late into the night, and Grantaire had no plans to leave any time soon. He was right in the middle of some story about Musichetta when Enjolras suddenly held up a hand, silencing him, his eyes shining with some sort of mischief._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Listen.” he mouthed, nodding in the direction of the table behind them. Grantaire did._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Listen, listen, I told you all the train movie was bullshit.” one of the men at the table was saying. A few other people murmured in agreement._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Main girl wasn’t half bad to look at though.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Reese Witherspoon.” Enjolras supplied. He was enjoying this._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I know!” Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I saw that one.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Enjolras winced, but then they were both listening again, the table full of men laughing at something the main one had said._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What about the other girl, the uh…”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fox?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“No, no, the perky one, brunette.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Knightley.” Enjolras mouthed, just as one of the other men shouted the same thing._ _ _ _ _ _

______“She’s a hot piece of ass if I ever saw one.” another one of them piped up, far too loud for where they were. Enjolras rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his cocktail.  
“Tries a bit hard though, I think.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well can you blame her?” The new voice was a woman, and Enjolras looked over Grantaire’s shoulder at her as she talked, amused. “I mean have you seen that guy?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Who, the blond one?”  
“Yeah, some child star or something, _gorgeous _body though.” The woman laughed. Grantaire choked on his drink as Enjolras went slightly red around his ears.___ _ _ _ _ _

________“I think that woman’s husband is next to her.” he whispered conspiratorially. “I think he’s jealous.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Homewrecker.” Grantaire whispered, still laughing. Enjolras gave an indignant look, then shushed him again.  
“I don’t think he’s all that.” one of the men grumbled. “Besides, from the looks of it he’s not trying to get with any of the Hollywood girls, if you know what I mean.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“True enough.” Someone replied. Enjolras’ face made it clear that it was the husband. “They’re all fags, these theatre types. I imagine its working out well for him, actually.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Grantaire’s face darkened suddenly, and Enjolras reached a hand across the table, laying it gently on his arm. He shook his head quickly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“It’s fine.” he mouthed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“How do you mean?” The woman’s voice carried over to them, grating Grantaire’s nerves much more than she had been moments ago._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I mean look at him!” the husband pressed on. “He’s gagging for it! Probably just can’t wait for one of those strong, dad types to flip him over and-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Right.” Grantaire stood up before he’d even really processed it, his chair scraping noisily against the floor. “That’s enough.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“R, hey, it’s not worth it.” Enjolras was standing too, but Grantaire had already made his way over to the table, clearing his throat loudly. His hands were trembling._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Excuse me.” he said curtly, trying to keep his voice even. Everyone looked up at him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Can we help you?” one of them asked. Grantaire’s blood boiled as he finally matched the face with the voice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Yeah, I…” he stumbled a moment, partly from stage-fright and partly because he was so angry he couldn’t see straight. “I just wanted to say that the guy you’re talking about, he’s a real person, and I think that… that you should think about…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“And who are you?” the man spat. “His fucking dad?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“No, but I think that-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I think you should leave.” Another one of them interrupted. Grantaire scowled. He opened his mouth again, to say something much less polite, when suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Evening, gentleman.” Enjolras smiled. Everyone at the table went pale. “Sorry about my friend, he’s sensitive.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Hey, listen, we didn’t…” it was the husband. Enjolras flashed all of his teeth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Hey, no, I get it.” he cut him off, the picture of calm. “Friendly banter, out with the guys, it’s not a big deal.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Oh. Okay then.” one of the others said slowly. The main offender’s wife looked absolutely mortified, eyes downcast as Enjolras turned to her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I just came over to say I’m sorry.” he sighed. She looked up, puzzled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“For… for what?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“For that.” He nodded in the direction of her husband, who was fuming. “He was right though.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Oh?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I’m _really _not after any Hollywood girls.” He slipped his hand into Grantaire’s, shooting a wink at the table. “Enjoy your meal guys, the tuna’s great.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________And then he was turning on his heel, pulling Grantaire with him. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a handful of cash, dropping it on their table as they went past, not even bothering to count it. There was a flush high in his cheeks when he turned to Grantaire._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You want to get out of here?” he asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“So much.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Enjolras smiled at that, sighing as they finally made it out of the doors and back onto the street. He raked a hand through his hair, shaking his head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I really shouldn’t have done that.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Are you kidding?” Grantaire balked. “Enjolras, that was amazing.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I shouldn’t have said anything.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“That guy was a dick!” he pressed on. “You were a lot nicer than I was going to be.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I figured.” Enjolras laughed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“And also…” Grantaire leaned up and planted a kiss on the other man’s cheek. “You looked like a total badass.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Whatever.” Enjolras rolled his eyes good-naturedly as they started walking. “It’s the jacket, it's all to do with the jacket. Makes me look way cooler than I am.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I don’t think so.” Grantaire laughed. “It’s all _you _, Enj, you totally saved my ass back there.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“You would’ve been fine.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Yeah, right.” Grantaire scoffed. “Don’t think so. Old habits die hard I guess.” It was out before he could stop it. Enjolras gave him a look._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“What’s that supposed to mean?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Oh.” Grantaire struggled to think of a lie. “Just that, uh, I’ve never been good at standing up for myself, I guess.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Not from what I’ve seen.” Enjolras countered. “I mean, you stood up to those guys just now. And the guy at the bookshop, and-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“You’re right.” Grantaire cut him off without meaning to, the conversation making his skin crawl. Enjolras stopped walking and looked at him, concern written all over his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“You don’t have to say that.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“No, I know, I’m sorry.” he sighed, fidgeting with the hem of his dress shirt absentmindedly. “I’m shit at this relationship thing, I don’t know what you want me to say.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I don’t _want _you to say anything, R.” Enjolras had pulled them off the sidewalk now, standing them under an awning that protected from the snow. “And you’re not shit at this.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“You don’t…” he trailed off, looking at Enjolras for any sign of ridicule. Even worse, he just looked worried. Grantaire sighed. “Alright fine. You might as well know.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Okay.” Enjolras replied, calm and open like he always was. Grantaire fidgeted more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I know you heard Joly at the dinner.” he forced out. “About my breakup.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Yeah.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“We weren’t just dating, we were… we were engaged.” His nails were digging crescents into his palms. “It didn’t end well.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“You left them?” Enjolras asked. Grantaire laughed at that, loud and bitter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“He left me.” He finally managed to look up at Enjolras, who looked deep in thought._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Why?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Oh, come on.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I’m being serious!” Enjolras looked almost hurt. Grantaire struggled to come up with an answer that wasn’t half-lies._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“He saw through my bullshit.” He finally settled on. “He knew he was too good for me. And then he met someone else, and moved out, and I had to live in that apartment without him for almost a year, and now I’m here. With you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Oh.” Enjolras still looked as though he believed if he stared hard enough, he could see into Grantaire’s head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“And I don’t want to fuck this up.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Enjolras finally moved, his hand reaching across the tiny space between them to grab at Grantaire’s, squeezing as tight as he could. Grantaire wouldn’t look at him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“You’re not going to.” he said softly. Grantaire laughed again, shaking his head. “Hey, look at me.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Grantaire complied, Enjolras’ bright blue eyes staring into his own, so dark they were almost black._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“You’re _not _.” Enjolras said again.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“You don’t have to say that.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Grantaire.” his voice was firmer now. “I’ve told you over and over I’m shit at acting, and even if I wasn’t, there’s not a chance in hell I could ever _pretend _to like you as much as I do.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I know that, I know.” Grantaire sounded like he was convincing himself. “But you have to realize, E. You can’t tell me you don’t know how crazy all of this is. I’m a bookstore owner, and you’re…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“That’s true.” Enjolras interrupted him. “You are a bookstore owner, but you’re also kind, and charming, and terrible at confrontation in the most endearing way possible, and I lo-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Don’t.” Grantaire was staring at him, eyes wide and searching. Enjolras stopped._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Don’t what?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Don’t say that unless you actually mean it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I do.” Enjolras brought Grantaire’s gloved hand to his lips, laying a kiss on the soft leather. “And I’m not going anywhere.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“You’re not?” He knew he was reaching, _knew _he was being clingy and terrified and all the things Montparnasse had hated about him, but he couldn’t stop himself asking. Enjolras smiled at him, warm and unbearably soft.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Would I lie to you?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Grantaire’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes locked with Enjolras’, until he gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head. Enjolras didn’t say anything for a moment, staring back at Grantaire like he was a puzzle he was trying to solve. Like if he could figure out how to say the right thing, Grantaire would stop fighting him. For once, Grantaire didn’t look away. Enjolras thought for a moment, then nodded, almost to himself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Grantaire do… do you want to come back to mine?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“You’re sure?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“More than I’ve ever been of anything.” Enjolras insisted. He looked young, Grantaire thought. Young and almost painfully unsure of himself. He nodded._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Let’s go.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Grantaire stayed glued to Enjolras’ side all the way back to his hotel, his boots trudging track in the snow beneath them. The walk wasn’t long, but it felt endless, his head spinning with everything that Enjolras had just said. He wondered if it was possible to feel both reassured and terrified simultaneously. Thankfully, as ever, Enjolras broke the silence._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Can I ask you something?” His tone was pleasant, conversational, so different than it had been minutes ago. Grantaire figured he had nothing to lose._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Go for it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“How long have you lived in that house for?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Well. That was different._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“First of all, house is a very strong word.” Grantaire replied, raising an eyebrow. “More of a decorated closet than anything else. But about four years.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Ahh.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Bahorel’s only been there for nine months, not that you can tell by how thoroughly he’s trashed the place.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Is he also from high school?” Enjolras was smiling, just barely._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“How’d you guess?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Because from the looks of it, he never really left.” he replied. Grantaire finally let out a small laugh, relaxing ever so slightly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Fair enough.” he shook his head. “He’s always been like that.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I think it’s cool though.” Enjolras said. “That you still have a lot of your same friends.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“It is.” Grantaire said thoughtfully, pulling Enjolras in slightly closer. “Glad I made some new ones though.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Enjolras laughed at that, finally bringing them to a stop in front of where he was staying, which was somewhere new from the press event, Grantaire noticed. Enjolras glanced through the doors, then turned back to him, still holding his hands._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Can you give me a five minute head start?” he asked. “Just to set the mood and such, you know, make sure I don’t have anything too terribly embarrassing in my room.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“You’re such a loser.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I’m _your _loser.” Enjolras grinned, leaning forward and giving Grantaire a quick kiss, cradling his face in his hands. “Five minutes?”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Fine.” Grantaire was grinning too, bursting into laughter as Enjolras took off at a run through the hotel doors._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Room 503!” he called over his shoulder, far too loud for all the people they were surrounded by. Grantaire gave him a thumbs up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________He was shaking once again as he stepped into the elevator, but this time it was in a good way, his nerves alight with anticipation. He could still smell Enjolras’ cologne on his coat, and that alone was driving him slightly crazy. It seemed like the ride up took forever. Nevertheless, he took his time making his way to Enjolras’ room, meandering through the hallway and drawing out the anticipation for as long as he could stand (which was about an extra thirty seconds). He straightened his coat just slightly, then knocked on the door, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Enjolras opened it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Hey.” he said, barely opening the door enough for his head to stick out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Hey yourself.” Grantaire smiled, bringing a hand up to let himself in. “Mind if I…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You have to go.” The door didn’t budge, Enjolras holding it closed with his foot. Grantaire’s smile faltered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Very funny.” he laughed, the sound coming out slightly brittle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I’m being serious.” Enjolras said, all traces of laughter from five minutes ago gone. “Grantaire, I’m so sorry, but you can’t be here right now, my boyfriend-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Your wh-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Baby?” Another voice called from behind the door, deep and masculine. Grantaire’s brow furrowed, and Enjolras looked like he might be sick. “Who’re you talking to?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Nobody.” Enjolras said quickly, moving to shut the door. Before he could manage, it was flung open against his will, revealing a tall, tan, broad-shouldered man in sweats and a T-shirt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Oh, room service!” he said cheerfully. Grantaire struggled to think as quickly as he normally did, unable to ignore the stricken look on Enjolras’ face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Yeah, um…” he coughed, trying to get himself back under control. “That’s me.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Funny though, don’t you guys normally wear those penguin suits?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Oh, uh…” he trailed off, trying desperately to make sense of any of it. Enjolras looked at him, pleading. “I was just getting dressed to go home actually, but I figured I would do this last call.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Great.” the man smiled, looking every bit the Hollywood persona that Grantaire had seen in Enjolras. “You can order for us, right baby?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I…” Enjolras was flushed. “I can, yeah.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Thanks.” The other man leaned in suddenly, crowding Enjolras against the wall and giving him a deep, searching kiss, not seeming to notice how stiff all the blondes limbs had gone. “Don’t overdo it though.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I… I won’t.” was all Enjolras managed in reply, and despite everything, Grantaire felt a pang of protectiveness in his chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Good.” the other man smirked. “Wouldn’t want you getting fat, would we? Imagine what the tabloids would have to say: ‘there goes the actor with the boyfriend who used to be attractive.’”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________He laughed, like it was some sort of hilarious joke, and Enjolras managed a brittle smile. Then the new man disappeared behind the door again, and Enjolras immediately leaned as far out as he could, face pinched with worry._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Grantaire, please, I can explain all of this, I-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Hey room service?” called the voice from inside the room once more. He reappeared with a stack of plates. “Can you take these with you?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I don’t… I don’t think that’s his job-” Enjolras started, then stopped just as quickly when his boyfriend waved a hand in his direction._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“It’s fine, he’s got it.” he interrupted. He shot a look at Grantaire. “Right?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Yeah.” Grantaire replied, taking the dishes from him with a small nod. “Yeah, its fine.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Thanks, man.” He turned to Enjolras, talking like Grantaire wasn’t even there. “Don’t take too long babe,” he smirked. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“O-okay.” Enjolras forced out, looking like he was trying not to close his eyes as th e other man grabbed him by one of his belt loops and pulled, so they were hip-to-hip as he started another make-out session. Enjolras was shaking when he finally pushed him away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Babe.” Enjolras shot his eyes in Grantaire’s direction, as if to say ‘there’s people watching.’ His boyfriend rolled his eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Sorry.” he laughed, not seeming to mean it at all. “What can I say, he’s spoiled. You know how it is.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Grantaire nodded dumbly, and then, with a wink at Enjolras, the boyfriend was gone again. Grantaire could feel his stomach sinking, not unlike when Enjolras had tried to tell him that he loved him. It suddenly felt that that had been a long time ago. Now, Enjolras didn’t say anything, raking his hand through his hair so aggressively he almost pulled a chunk of it out. When he looked at Grantaire, his eyes were shining._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I don’t know what to say.” he started. “Just please, if you give me-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I think…” Grantaire interrupted him, and Enjolras went silent, bracing himself. “I think goodbye should work, actually.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“R, please…” Enjolras faltered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I should go.” Grantaire cut him off again, hating how much his voice was trembling._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Grantaire didn’t look back as he made his way to the elevator, his feet heavy on the carpeted floor. He felt like he was dreaming, except for the persistent choking feeling clawing at his throat. His eyes were burning as the doors closed behind him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________He had barely made it out of the hotel when his phone was buzzing in his pocket, startling him slightly. His gaze darkened as he pulled it out. He thought for a moment, then, as always, went against his better judgement._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“What?” he said sharply, still standing in front of the stupidly fancy entrance doors. It had somehow gotten ever colder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Grantaire, we broke up.” Enjolras sounded frantic._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“What, just now?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“What? No, no, R listen, we’ve _been _broken up, but he just showed up here, and I didn’t have time to tell you, and I…”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Its fine.” Grantaire cut him off, his throat so thick he could barely talk. “You don’t have to lie to me.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“I’m not!” He was crying now, his breathing harsh and raspy over the phone. “Grantaire please, you have to believe me, I _never _wanted this to happen.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“I know.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“I didn’t know what to do.” Enjolras choked out. “And then he was kissing me, and I couldn’t stop him, I…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“Stop.” Grantaire said, stomach lurching as he managed to find his way into an alleyway beside the hotel, leaning heavily on the wall. “Look, Enjolras, even if this hadn’t happened…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“Don’t-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“It never would’ve worked.” he finished. The line was silent, then Enjolras took a deep, shuddering breath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“Grantaire, I am _so _sorry.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________“People like us don’t end up together.” he sighed. “They just don’t.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________“R…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________“I have to go.” Grantaire cut him off. “Enjoy your date.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________He pulled the phone away from himself before Enjolras could say anything else, leaning back against the wall and letting out a long sigh. In a way, he supposed this had been inevitable. He was surprised to feel hot tears running down his face, quickly scrubbing them away and trying to take a deep breath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________“You are _such _a fucking idiot.” he spat out into the empty alleyway.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________By the time he’d finally made it home, it was well past midnight, the majority of the houses on the Rue de Villette dark. All the lights were off in the kitchen and the hallway as well, Bahorel most likely already asleep. Grantaire had given up trying to keep track of his sleep schedule a long time ago._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________He didn’t bother flicking any of the light switches as he made his way through the house, finally sinking down into one of the kitchen chairs. The light of one of the streetlamps was streaming through the window, casting everything in a dim, orange light. He rested his head in his hands, trying to take deep breaths. It was only quiet for a moment before his phone buzzed again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________He was already scowling as he took it out to look, but his face softened as he realized it wasn’t Enjolras calling again, but a text message, from Musichetta. He squinted at the screen, his vision still blurry._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________‘Having fun? ;)’ it read. He laughed for the first time in the past hour, debating how to even begin to respond to that. His hands had finally stilled, he noticed as he settled for just hitting the dial button. The ringing noise seemed much too loud._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Hello?” She sounded confused when she picked up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Hey, M.” he sighed. “What’s up?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Not much, really, having a bit of a night in.” she laughed. “How about you? How’s Enjolras? Shouldn’t you be talking to him? Don’t be rude.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“No, I’m uh…” he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stem some of the more self-pitying emotions that were threatening to bubble over in his chest. “I’m at home now, actually.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Oh.” she was silent for a moment, her tone much softer when she spoke again. “Is everything okay?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Not really.” His voice was like sandpaper._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Oh, R.” she sighed. “What happened?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“He has…” he tried to breathe. “He has someone else, M, has had since all of this started.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“He…” she trailed off, stunned. “You’re sure?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“He took me back to his hotel.” Grantaire started. “And when we got up there, his boyfriend was in his room, and so he pretended not to know me, and I… I left.” He felt exhausted suddenly, drained of all the energy he’d ever had. There was silence from the other end, until Musichetta took a deep, shaky breath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Oh, that _dickhead _.” The words were so full of genuine hatred that even Grantaire was the tiniest bit scared for a moment. Then, just as suddenly, he felt the bizarre urge to laugh.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“He called me after.” he pressed on. “Said that that was his ex, but…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“But what?” she asked. Grantaire wouldn’t have been surprised if she had been grabbing one of her kitchen knives as they spoke._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“But I don’t know… whether I believe him or not.” he sighed, deciding to leave out the bit where Enjolras had all but proposed outside of the sushi restaurant. The wound to his pride was still rather fresh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“It doesn’t matter.” she replied simply. “He lied, to you and to this other guy.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Right.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“You don’t sound convinced.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“I am!” he said, rather forcefully. “I’m just not…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Musichetta didn’t interrupt this time, silent as he took a few more deep breaths. He was starting to shake again, feeling small and angry and wildly alone in the dim light of the kitchen. He wondered for a moment if he had simply dreamt all of this. If he was going to wake up in his bedroom, still alone but without this persistent, awful aching behind his ribs. He finally let some more tears slide down his face, bringing up one of his hands and burying it in his hair._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Musichetta?” he asked, softly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Yes?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Why can’t I ever get this right?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“What do you mean?” she asked. “Relationships?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Yeah.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Because they’re fucking hard.” she replied, with an air of wisdom he knew was from personal experience. “And you can’t predict anything.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________She was right, he knew she was, and yet he still felt like he couldn’t breathe, his heart pounding. He wondered if she could tell that he was crying, finally letting all of the self-pity flow out of him in a terrifying black wave._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“People only love me until they find someone better.” he forced out, like it was some sort of revelation._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Bullshit.” Musichetta barely let him finish his sentence. “People love you because you deserve it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“M…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Grantaire.” she cut him off. “You are the biggest pain in my ass I’ve ever known, and yet I’m still ready and willing to go bash in Enjolras’ face with my purse if you give me his hotel address.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________He sat in stunned silence for a moment, taken aback by how forceful her tone was. Then, softly, he laughed, the sound thick with tears, unable to do anything else in the face of her absurd threat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“And I know for a fact that I’m not the only one who feels that way.” she continued. “Joly, Cosette, Marius, Combeferre…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Okay, okay, I get your point.” he smiled slightly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“I don’t think you do.” she snapped, still all business. He gave another small chuckle. “Sometimes people can love you without telling you all the time, R. Don’t be such a moron that you can’t see it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Okay.” he took a deep breath, feeling somehow, marginally better. “You’re right.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“I know.” she replied, self-satisfied. “And R?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Yeah?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“You’re…” she hesitated. “You’re okay, right? With… with, you know-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“What?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“You’re not thinking of-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Oh!” he suddenly realized what she meant, and felt a pang of guilt lance through him. “Jesus, no, of course not M, I’m… I’m still sober.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Okay.” she let out a long sigh of relief. “I’m sorry. I just have to-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“I know.” he said. “It’s fine. Thank you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Right.” She sighed again, then thankfully moved on, saving him any more embarrassment. She had always been good at avoiding awkward conversations, same as Cosette._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“So you’ll be okay for tonight?” she asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Yeah.” he replied, knowing it was mostly a lie. “I’ll be fine.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Okay.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “But you’ll call me if you need anything, right?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“I always do.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Great. Goodnight, R.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Night.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________He let out his own sigh of relief as he hung up the phone, slumping down into his chair. He didn’t know if he’d ever felt this tired. He scrubbed a hand over his face, then finally rose up with a groan, making his way to the stairs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________The walk to his room seemed to take forever, and he was more than happy to toe off his boots and fall into bed fully clothed when he got there. He stared at the ceiling, mind finally slowing down. Despite how bone-weary he was, he didn’t want to place any bets on whether or not he’d actually be able to get to sleep. His phone made another noise, and he resisted the urge to throw it across the room. This time, it was a text from Enjolras._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Grantaire stared in disbelief, the words seeming to glare back at him. Then, he made good on his threat, the phone making a pathetic noise as it smacked into the wall and landed in a pile of clothes on the floor. He ignored it, wrenching the covers over his head and closing his eyes, wishing he could just fall asleep and wishing even more that he’d never opened the message in the first place._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Dawn was breaking when he finally fell into an exhausted state of unconsciousness, tossing and turning in his bed. Even as he slept, he couldn’t escape the words, the message which felt like it was burning him up from the inside out, a mantra that kept running through his head over and over, planting the tiniest seed of doubt in his chest. Words he couldn’t seem to escape from. Words he desperately wanted to convince himself weren’t true, because maybe it would be easier that way. The screen eventually faded to black, but he saw the message in his mind’s eye long after, as if Enjolras was whispering it into his ear himself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________‘I'm so sorry.’ The text read. ‘But just so you know, I really did mean it.’_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! Angst and pain for everybody baby. New chapter should be out soon, in the meantime I would LOVE kudos and comments should the mood strike you!  
> \- Jo


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